Thoroughly Modern Mary Margaret
by aestheticedits5813
Summary: New York City, 1922. Mary Margaret Blanchard, comes from poverty in a snowy small town but moves to the city to become the "modern" woman she's always dreamed of being. Emma Swan is an an heiress aspiring to be a poor struggling actress. One's on the way up, the other's on the way down. It's a good thing they met in the middle!
1. Chapter 1

Thoroughly Modern Mary Margaret

This is my take on the "Thoroughly Modern Millie" story with my favorite OUAT characters. This will be a multiple chapter story. PLEASE BE AWARE THAT THE SNOWING SHIP WILL TAKE A LOT OF TIME TO DEVELOP! I'm writing David's character more like the character of Jimmy from the musical "Thoroughly Modern Millie" who starts off as a drinking womanizer but he will be redeemed just hang on!

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot or the characters

Mary Margaret Blanchard couldn't believe it. After five long days of travel she had finally arrived in New York City! And what a city! She'd been preparing for this new adventure since starting typing classes in school and reading all about the modern woman (known as "Moderns") in fashion magazines, and she had read them all. Well, she had read all the fashion magazines second hand from a friend; magazines that made it as far as her hometown in North Dakota which were too few for a woman of Mary Margret's aspiration. Looking up at all the buildings in the city she would now call home she felt like she had stepped into another world. She saw skyscrapers so high that the tops of them seemed to disappear into the sun, like giant beanstalks rising to the heavens. In her left hand she held her suitcase with all her worldly possessions, and in her right hand the maps of the city. She slipped the shoulder strap of her purse higher on her right shoulder, careful to slide her long ebony locks out from underneath. "Would you look at her dress? Why if it isn't Little Miss Muffet?" a woman's voice said with a chuckle. "Pardon?" Mary Margaret asked. Looking to her right a blonde with a short bobbed hair cut passed by, casting a critical eye on Mary Margaret's appearance. The blonde spoke with a certain condescending tone in her voice asking, "What's wrong dear? All out of curds and whey?" A brunette with an equally bobbed hairstyle passed to the left chuckling, clearly the voice of the first woman. "I, uh" Mary Margaret stammered, not sure how to respond to the stylish ladies now mocking her. Their skirts were several inches shorter than hers. "Better watch out for spiders!" the brunette cast a final disparaging remark over her shoulder as she and the blonde sauntered down the sidewalk, having a good laugh at Mary Margaret's expense. "Moderns!" she thought, furrowing her brow. Everything about the appearance of those two women, and frankly most of the women she observed on that street on that afternoon, had the same kind of stylish appearance of the clothing of models in the magazines she so loved. She turned toward the storefront window behind her and surveyed her own reflection. "Little Miss Muffet?" she questioned introspectively. Did she really look like a character from a nursery rhyme? Her skin was as fair as her hair was dark, with long soft flowing curls. Her eyes were a delicate shade of green which sparkled when she smiled. At the age of eighteen her figure turned the heads of several men, and her allure in that area had only improved in the following four years. In fact Mary Margaret's features were quite lovely, but, look as she might, she was wholly unsatisfied with the woman in the reflection. In her mind her lips were not as bright, her brows were thinner, and her eyes were not lined as she reasoned they ought to be. To her, the style of her dress was too old fashioned and her hair was too long. This is nineteen twenty two! No sir, this will not do. Not if you want to be a Modern! And just her luck, there was a beauty salon and a dress maker straight across the street. Eyes on the prize, no turning back, Mary Margaret was changing, and how! She marched across the street with all the determination of a heroine marching into battle. It was by some miracle that she didn't get run over by the swiftly passing traffic. "Little Miss Muffet?!" Mary Margaret thought as she flung open the door of the salon, "Not for the life of me!"

Three hours later Mary Margaret burst out of the dress maker's shop like a firecracker. Freshly bobbed hair meant no more tangles with the shoulder strap of her purse, and her skirt is so short that if she twists quickly her knees are visible. Quite shocking! She would be a scandal on sight if walking down the Main Street back home, but here in Manhattan she was the height of fashion and throughly modern. She smiled now at her reflection in the storefront windows as she strolled down the street. If she were any happier she'd be dancing! Sure her purse was a few dollars lighter, but that's no matter for a Modern like her. Given her amazing skills in typing, dictation, and other clerical areas of expertise she will land a lucrative career in no time. All of her employable attributes were in a resumé she'd prepared and packed in a folder in her suitcase, with several copies she made , just in case. Getting a job was just one part of Mary Margaret's fool-proof modern-woman plan. She not only dreamed of being successful in finding employment , but also in finding a mate. Mary Margaret was not looking for True Love, which to her was just something in Fairytales, and she was a Modern. No sir, she wanted much more than a silly romance with some fella she met on the street. She dreamed of marrying a confident, intelligent, wealthy (and hopefully attractive) business man; a man who could afford a comfortable modern lifestyle. She wanted something more for herself than the type of relationship her mother had with her father. She wanted a better life and she'd concluded that money was the key ingredient to a happy life. After all she didn't want to have to pace the hallways of her home late at night worrying about having enough money to pay the mortgage. She didn't want to have to work eighteen hours a day, six days a week to feed and clothe five children in an over-crowded house. She definitely didn't want to fall in love with someone who, after eleven years of marriage no longer cared for her or for any of their five children. She didn't want to become old and gray at age twenty-nine. Mary Margaret had watched her parents' relationship crumble when they lost their farm and with it, lost their main source of income. Her father abandoned the family and her mother became a shell of her former beautiful lively self. At one time her parents had truly loved each other, but it hadn't been enough to keep them together when times got really hard. The poverty was tough, but the emotional toll had been devastating. Mary Margaret and mother and her brothers and sisters all moved in with her widowed grandmother. Her parents never divorced, but they never reunited either. In her plan to marry a wealthy man Mary Margaret figured that if later her spouse turned out to be indifferent or uncaring to her, she believed she could handle it, as long as she knew that she was secure financially. So she was determined not to end up broke and broken-hearted.

David Nolan was a man who lived in the moment. He whistled a happy tune while quickly walking down the street on his way to meet a certain little lady. With his sandy blonde hair, blue eyes, handsome face, and athletic build, David attracted a lot of female attention. But it was his wit, his smile, and his, well, his charm that really made the ladies melt. Yes ma'am , David Nolan was a heart breaker for sure, at least that's what some of his previous lady friends would have attested to, not that he could have told you their names. He doesn't remember names as well as he remembers faces, or as well as he remembers other physical features of the women he meets. There was the blonde he dated for several weeks, and before her there was a different blonde, and before her there was, uh, um, no wait, come to think of it they were all blondes. Huh. The particular blonde cutie he was anxious to meet for an early dinner this evening (and hopefully later other activities) was one he had his eye on for quite some time, a certain Miss Marilyn. Wait, is her name Marilyn? Or was it Madelyn? Carolyn? No. Kathryn. Her name is KATHRYN! Wow. He is REALLY BAD at names. Maybe he should write her name on his hand so that during dinner he doesn't forget. David reaches for his trusty pen in the inner pocket of his jacket when he is suddenly accosted by a sheet of paper to his handsome face. "What the-"

After passing several blocks Mary Margaret encountered a older man with a bald head and scraggly beard who stopped her quite suddenly and asked,

"Excuse me Miss, but do you have the time?"

"Oh, no." She replied and smiled weakly. "I'm sorry, I don't."

The man chuckled, stepped into her personal space, and said loudly, "I guess it's time for me to buy a watch."

Mary Margaret cocked her head slightly, unsure about why he was speaking louder and she stepped backwards, towards an alleyway behind her. The man grinned and held out his hand as if he was requesting something from her "Want to help me out?" Before she could respond she received a sudden shove from an unseen person to her right, causing her to stumble over a trash can turned on its side and she dropped her suitcase. Using her confused state as his opportunity, the older man snatched Mary Margaret's purse and he and the person who pushed the poor woman down, ran past her down the alley. The suitcase, upon hitting the ground burst open, and a passing breeze blew her resume copies everywhere, one of which landed directly on the face of a hurried young handsome gentleman walking past the alleyway. The paper hit his face with an unexpected slap. He stopped with a shout, "What the-"

"Oh no!" Mary Margaret cried out. "My purse! He's got my purse!" She scrambled to stand, and turned to run after her muggers. She accidentally pushed the trash can out of the alleyway and it rolled into the path of the gentleman whose vision was impaired by the resume that the breeze blew in his face.

David is suddenly falling forward and hears a woman's voice yelling something about a purse and a loud banging noise that sounds remarkably like a body falling against a metal trash can and unsurprisingly his body feels like it fell hard against a trash can, and he can smell an odor of refuse, so even though he still can't see said trash can due to the mysterious paper plastered to his face he's pretty sure he can trust his other senses that he has, in fact, fallen face-first over a trash can. Fantastic. "Owwww!" David shouts.

Mary Margaret has attempted to chase her muggers to the end of the alley, but they have vanished without a trace. Suddenly standing at the end of the alleyway she realizes her right shoe is missing. She lets out a long, frustrated sigh. "They took my purse and my shoe?!" Suddenly she hears a shout of pain coming from the opposite side of the alleyway, the location where she was mugged. It could have been her imagination or maybe she had also heard what sounded like a body hitting a trash can. "Oh, no, now what?" Mary Margaret mutters as she makes her way toward the sound of a man in pain.

The banana peel on his head was lifted by a pretty little pixie of a woman and David wondered if he was dreaming. Then the little trickle of blood on the right side of his sore chin made it clear he was definitely awake.

"Are you ok?" The pixie asked.

David sat up and winced,

"Sure. Say, did you get the number of that truck that hit me?" A small smile cracked at the left corner of his mouth.

The pixie looked more confused than amused; definitely not having the same charming affect on women when you're wearing garbage, Nolan. He manages to get to his feet and cracks his neck a couple of times for good measure.

Mary Margaret took in the sight of the slightly soiled man before her. She took in a short, sharp gasp when her jade green eyes locked with his sapphire gaze and her soft white cheeks tinged a lovely shade of pink.

"Miss?" The handsome stranger's voice snapped her out of her reverie and brought her current unfortunate situation to the forefront of her mind.

"I was robbed!"

"Robbed?"

"Yes! Two men knocked me down, my suitcase went flying out of my hand then they stole my purse and my shoe!" She lifted her right leg slightly and pointed to her foot as proof.

"Who steals a shoe?" He mused.

"I know, right?!" She glanced down and saw her clothes and belongings scattered with the garbage on the sidewalk. She knelt down and began gathering her things.

This girl was unlucky for sure, David thought to himself. She looked up at him with a sorrowful expression and he tried to ignore the unexpected ache in his chest. Was it pity he was feeling for this pretty pixie's predicament or was it something more?

Whoa! Definitely not going to explore that particular thought. David Nolan didn't do romantic entanglements. But something in him told him it was the right thing to do to help this damsel in distress. He knelt down and assisted her in locating her suitcase and together they managed to salvage most of her belongings, including a few of her resumés.

Her even helped her up to her feet.

"There now, not so bad." He said, smiling softly. She lamely tried to smile in return.

"Yeah. Not so bad aside from having no money, no place to stay, and not knowing a soul in this city." She shrugged.

"Well I can help fix that last one." He offered his right hand.

"David Nolan, from Long Island New York. Very nice to meet you, Miss."

She smiled and shook his hand.

"Well aren't you charming? I'm Mary Margaret Blanchard, from Storybrooke, North Dakota."

"Storybrooke? Never heard of it."

"It's a small farming town, mostly known for having the most yearly snowfall in the state."

David glanced at his watch. Damn! He was late with his date with blonde what's-her-name. The beautiful beryl-eyed brunette before him was distracting him in more ways than one. He needed to get away as soon as possible before he started analyzing their interaction.

"Well Miss Snow-in-a-town-I-never-heard-of it's been a pleasure but I must be off. There's a certain little blonde miss who's missing my company at this very moment."

Mary Margaret's smile dropped a fraction. He's involved with someone. Of course he is. Why that seemed to bother her she wasn't sure; it definitely wasn't because of how attractive and kind he was. No, that's got nothing to do with it at all.

"Well, Mr. Charming-from-Long-Island, it was nice meeting you and thank you for your chivalry."

David shrugged. "It was the honorable thing to do, Snow. But let me do you one last favor." David took his pen out of his inner jacket pocket and took her hand in his.

Snow.

She chuckled at the nickname this handsome stranger just gave her. As he scrawled on her palm with his pen a bunch of butterflies fluttered in her stomach. When he finished writing she read aloud the words, "Misthaven Hotel"

"It's a boardinghouse for young aspiring actresses, so they're used to girls who can't pay. They should be able to help you out until you get back on your feet. Or at least until you have shoes on both of them."

She smiled.

He continued, "It's just a couple of blocks south of here. I think you can make it."

"Thanks, Charming."

He smiled warmly; he liked the nickname she bestowed on him.

"You're welcome, Snow. Good luck." He turned and hurried down the street

And with that Mary Margaret wobbled her way on one shoe to the hotel, all the way trying to tell herself that she certainly wasn't Cinderella and she hadn't just left her prince behind.


	2. Chapter 2

Thoroughly Modern Mary Margaret

This story is my take on the "Thoroughly Modern Millie" story with OUAT characters and ships with some alterations of my own along the way. In this chapter I use some of the dialogue from the Millie musical and a line from "Fiddler on the Roof" To the anonymous reviewer who wanted to know where the relationships would go with this story. Don't worry. Killian will not be Mary Margaret's love interest.

WARNINGS:: This story is rated T. This Chapter alludes to situations of drugging, non-voluntary involvement in the mail-order-bride industry, kidnapping, and an Irish Stereotype

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot or the characters

Chapter 2

Emma Swan couldn't believe it. After four long years of studying theatre she was finally going to pursue her dream of being an actress in New York City. And she was going to do it on her own merit! She wasn't going to ride on anyone's coattails. She wanted to get onstage because of her talent, and not because of who her father was or because of the fortune he bequeathed to her. She would use the money in her trust fund responsibility and frugally as her late father had taught her. She wanted the authentic experience of life in New York City.

Her Rolls Royce finally arrived at what would be her new home. A vacancy sign lit up, as if it was a lighthouse signal to guide her toward her new adventure. Her wary driver turned around, with a concerned look on his face, making him look grumpier than usual.

"Are you sure about this Miss Emma?"

She smiled at her chauffeur and friend of all 21 years of her life, "I'm perfectly certain Leroy." She began exiting the vehicle and Leroy huffed, "Miss Emma, wait!" He hurried out of the Rolls Royce just in time to prevent her from opening the trunk of the automobile.

"You really should allow me to do my job, Miss. I drive, open doors, and I transport luggage," he scolded. Emma rolled her eyes and swayed her long blonde curls over her shoulder. "You really should allow me to learn how to take care of myself," she replied as he opened the trunk and removed her 2 large pieces of matching luggage. When they reached the curb Emma asked him to set the luggage down and he did so gently, then shook his head.

"Miss Emma, it's sad enough to see you moving out on your own, but choosing to live in a rundown, shady place like Misthaven Hotel is just a bad idea. At least let me take you to the Aberdeen!"

"No Leroy. No more luxury hotels, no more other people carrying my luggage for me. I want to experience a different way of life and that includes staying at the Misthaven."

Leroy sighed. "Well, if you have any trouble..." Emma nodded.

"I'll call. I promise."

Leroy tipped his cap. "Take care, Miss Emma. And good luck." He got back inside the Rolls Royce and pulled into traffic.

Emma struggled to pick up both pieces of luggage and eventually headed for the entrance of the hotel, where there was a group of a young women exiting while chatting amongst themselves. One of them held the door open for Emma. She thanked the girl and entered the hotel.

Mary Margaret hurried down the stairs into the lobby of the Misthaven. The Hotel proprietress, Mrs. O'Grady was behind the front desk. "Ah, Mary Margaret," Mrs. O'Grady called in her Irish accent as sweet as cream, "Come here my little lamb there's something I've been meaning to ask ya."

Mary Margaret smiled knowingly as she approached the older woman. "I think I know what you're going to ask. You want to know when I'll be able to pay you for the last 2 weeks of rent and board, don't you?"

The red and gray bun on the top of old Mrs. O'Grady's head wobbled a bit back and forth as she shook her aged head with dismay, "Tis a pity to trouble you my dear, but as my beloved husband Walsh used to say, 'Rosie, ya have a heart of gold my love to take in these poor unfortunate souls, but ne'er you forget this Hotel is.."

"First and foremost a business," Mary Margaret finished for her, "Yes Mrs. O'Grady you've mentioned that to me several times."

The older woman looked ashamed and gasped, "Oh to be beggin' your pardon my dear. Please forgive an old and forgetful lady for repeatin' 'herself. My mind must be goin'. I taint as young as I used to be. Now, about the rent..."

"Way ahead of you Mrs. O'Grady. I know we said to have it today at noon. Well yesterday I had an interview for a job that met all my requirements and they said they'd call back today..."

Suddenly the concierge desk telephone rang loudly and Mrs. O'Grady reached it before Mary Margaret could. She moved impressively well for a woman her age - not that you could really tell how old the hotel owner was - somewhere between 60 and 150 guessed the residents of the Misthaven Hotel.

"Hello you've reached the Hotel Misthaven, a boardinghouse for single young ladies, how may I help you? What's that? Mary Margaret Blanchard? Job? Hmmm. Ah! Oh! I see! Oh yes, I'd be delighted to give her that message. Bye."

Mary Margaret smiled brilliantly at the old woman who turned and faced her, "So sorry dear, they didn't hire ya."

Mary Margaret was crestfallen.

Suddenly Mrs. O'Grady's mood darkened and she began ushering Mary Margaret towards the elevator at the end of the lobby. "I'll give you 10 minutes to go up to your room and pack up your belongings or you'll find them on the street!"

Just then the elevator doors opened and a group of women sauntered into the lobby calling out to Mrs. O'Grady sweetly, "Morning Rosie!"

And as sweet as cream she replied, "Good morning my dear little lambs!" The girls continued their way through the lobby, headed to the front entrance, while chatting and doing a little choreography (they were all chorus girls and aspiring actresses and Moderns to boot)

As soon as their backs were to her Mrs. O'Grady's smile dropped and she gestured to the elevator, "Go Blanchard!"

Mary Margaret crossed to stand in front of a door marked "Authorized Personnel Only"

Mary Margaret held up her palm and struggled to stall her way out of eviction with the suddenly hot-tempered hotel proprietress.

"Wait a moment Rosie."

"That's Mrs. O'Grady to you."

"The other girls called you 'Rosie.'"

Mrs. O'Grady huffed, "The other girls pay their rent on time and in full! You had 2 weeks on credit and your time has run out!"

Just then the sound of a whimper followed by a loud thump came from behind the door marked "Authorized Personnel Only" Mary Margaret swiveled her head toward the sound. "What on earth was that?" She turned and looked at the older woman.

"Uh, my cat... Mittens."

"Awful lot of noise for cat!" mused Mary Margaret as Mrs. O'Grady hurriedly grabbed the large cluster of keys hanging from a cord attached to her long skirt and with shaking hands attempted to press a large skeleton key in the lock of the door behind Mary Margaret.

"Mittens is a large cat...uh...a... Maine Coon...had her in the family for years."

Mary Margaret's brow furrowed, "That's funny, I've never seen a large cat around here before."

Mrs. O'Grady opened the door, and blocked Mary Margaret's view of the inside of the room.

"That's funny, I've never seen ya pay the rent before! And unless you come up with it, you're out on the street!" The door slammed shut in Mary Margaret's face.

"Excuse me?" came a soft feminine voice from near the concierge desk. "Is this where I check in?"

Mary Margaret turned toward the sound of the voice and saw a lovely young woman in a long pink lace dress with soft billowing blonde curls over her shoulders.

"The vultures descend before the body's even cold!" Mary Margaret thought furiously. She approached the woman who had 2 large very expensive-looking suitcases.

"Excuse me Miss?" The blonde inquired.

Mary Margaret marched over to the elegantly dressed woman then crossed her arms against her chest and responded, "Yes?"

"I'd like to inquire on the room for rent."

Mary Margaret's brow furrowed. "What were you doing? Listening at the door?!"

The blonde looked non-plussed and pointed to the lit sign above the entrance. "The sign says 'Vacancy.'"

"Well, don't believe everything you read," Mary Margaret grumbled. Then a brilliant idea occurred to her. She'd convince the blonde the Misthaven Hotel was a bad place to stay, beg Mrs. O'Grady for a few more days, and save her room! She stepped into the blonde's personal space to confide in her.

"Trust me. You don't want to stay here. The manager's mean, the rooms are hot, and the water is always cold!"

"That's...wonderful!"

The expression of exuberant delight that came across the young woman's face surprised and confused Mary Margaret.

"Huh?"

"Oh, you're right, introductions first, where are my manners? I'm Emma, Emma Swan." She shook Mary Margaret's hand with excitement.

"I'm Mary Margaret Blanchard."

"So very nice to meet you! Do you live here?" Emma asked.

"At the moment." Mary Margaret replied frowning. How could she think of trying to suppress joy like Emma's. It is a bright light beaming out of her like the sun. And clearly the woman was insane. She excitedly told the petite brunette how she'd lived a life of luxury, surrounded by servants, flunkies, and phony friends who were drawn to her wealth and as shallow as a paddling pool. Emma craved a life lived hand-to-mouth, paycheck to paycheck. She had everything Mary Margaret always thought she wanted but Emma had apparently decided to ditch the high life to struggle with the work-a-day class. This woman needed her help, Mary Margaret realized. Well a friend in need is a friend indeed.

"There's only one room available, and its mine. So, maybe we could be roommates?" Mary Margaret offered, and suddenly Emma was embracing her in the happiest hug since the hug was invented.

"Faith and begorrah, what have we here?" a familiar feminine voice asked. Mary Margaret turned in her new friend's arms and was face-to-face with Mrs. O'Grady.

Killian Jones was a man whose life was currently going nowhere. Washing, drying, and ironing linens in the basement of the Misthaven Hotel was not the future he and his older brother, Liam had hoped for. Yet, there they were; indentured servants to that old witch in the green shawl, Rosie O'Grady.

Back in their hometown of Drogheda, Ireland he and Liam had dreamed of coming to America to make a new life for themselves and their mother, Alice. But they got caught up in the debts left behind by their thieving drunken lout of father, may he rot in his grave. Their father's debts became theirs, the only inheritance Brennan Jones left his wife and sons. If they didn't cooperate their master would have no problem sending them to a debtors' prison. Their indentured servitude contracts were sold from one master to another until finally to their current captor and proprietress of this establishment. She frequently reminded them that all she had to do was fabricate a story to the police that the brothers were thieves and then they would rot in jail upstate for the rest of their miserable lives.

It wasn't the manual labor of the laundry, cleaning and general hotel maintenance that caused Killian to bristle so. He had sadly accepted that it was his lot in life. However O'Grady's more sinister business cut him deeper than any sword ever could.

His stomach sank lower at the thought of the illegal activities going on in the seemingly wholesome hotel. The only silver lining was that in just a few more months the contract of servitude would end and the brothers Jones would finally be reunited with their mother. O'Grady's reach into the criminal underworld was far, Killian had learned. On more than one occasion when he refused to do O'Grady's bidding she had threatened him; not with violence against him or his brother, but against their frail, ailing mother. If they could just hang on a little longer they would all be free. It had been more than two weeks since O'Grady had last called upon the brothers for anything more that the usual manual labor and he hoped in his heart of hearts that O'Grady's greed for once had been assuaged. They had just finished the 4th load of sheets when they heard O'Grady's horrid fake Irish accent over the intercom: "Liam! Killian! Bring a laundry bin to my office at once!"

Killian sighed and Liam hustled over to the intercom, pushing his large thumb to the respond button and reluctantly speaking into the cursed box, "Aye, Mrs. O'Grady. One laundry bin coming up."

Killian sadly shook his head as he pushed the large rolling bin toward the elevator.

"I wonder who the bride is this time." Liam mused.

"Whoever she is, brother, she's no better off than us." Killian said darkly.

Rising on the elevator took the brothers out of the heat of the basement to the lobby level where the air from outside greeted their noses. Something vaguely smelling of vanilla and cinnamon, thought Killian. As Liam took over pushing the laundry cart Killian cast a glance toward the concierge desk.

His blue eyes widened as he was spell-bound by the beautiful blonde chatting with a petite brunette in the lobby. There was a radiant light beaming out of her like the sun. And clearly the woman was an angel with her bright smile, high cheekbones, and billowing long blonde curls. He caught her name in the air, "Emma Swan" It was a beautiful name for an angel. Suddenly he was literally shaken out of his reverie by his brother's massive hand on his shoulder. Then in a hushed whisper Liam said, "Come on now little brother. We have a job to do."

Liam knocked gently 5 times on the door marked "Authorized Personnel Only" and some rustling could be heard from the other side of the door. Killian whispered, "Younger brother, Liam. I'm twenty-one years old and not little."

The door open by the impatient Mrs. O'Grady and they pushed the bin inside the office. O'Grady shut the door behind them.

On the floor lay a young brunette woman in a blue gingham dress with her eyes closed. Her hair was in two long braids. She was tied up and a gag was tied around her mouth slightly muffling her snoring.

"Hurry and get her in the bin!" O'Grady's false Irish accent was replaced by her natural Cambridge, England accent. Killian and Liam looked at the girl and then at each other in befuddlement. "Well, get on with it." O'Grady snapped.

Killian couldn't help but ask, "Why is she dressed like that?" He had seen this resident of the hotel before, but never with braids and in a country frock. O'Grady stalked toward him, "Because, my potato-headed minion, a client is willing to pay a lot of green for a sweet innocent Kansas girl. When this one received a telegram today saying that her last living relation was killed by a taxi in Chicago, inspiration struck! So I offered her an Irish wake with some doctored whiskey. Once she was unconscious I changed her into this dress, braided her hair and voila, instant Kansas girl. The mail-order bride business is all about supply and demand. The bigger the demand the bigger the payout. Unfortunately the first dose of Irish Rose I gave her didn't completely do the job and she tried to get up. One of the other residents overheard the noise and now thinks I have a giant cat in here. Don't ask. Just get her in the bin and out of my hotel out the back. There's a truck waiting to take her over the rainbow to a lonely old git. Do it quickly before the residents come back."

Killian piped up, "But, Mrs. O'Grady, there are 2 women in the lobby. They may have seen us coming in here. I don't think we'll get away without them hearing her snoring ."

"Two women?"

Liam chimed in, "Aye, a lass in a blue dress with short dark hair and a blonde in a pink dress with fancy suitcases."

O'Grady's brow furrowed.

"Hmmm. Sounds like Blanchard and a new victim...I mean guest.

I'll distract them while you take the bride-to-be out the back door."

Mrs. O'Grady opened her office door and surreptitiously crossed the lobby while Liam and Killian begrudgingly guided the snoring laundry bin out the back of the hotel. O'Grady found the 2 younger women locked in an embrace and said loudly in her false Irish accent right next to them, "Faith and begorrah, what have we here?"

Mary Margaret turned in her new friend's arms and was face-to-face with Mrs. O'Grady, who blocked her view of the exiting laundry bin.

Mary Margaret extricated herself from Emma's embrace.

"Now hold on Mrs. O'Grady, before you bite my head off..."

Mrs. O'Grady tutted and spoke so sweetly, yet peculiarly loudly.

"Oh Mary Margaret, my little lamb, you know that I never bite! At my age I hardly have any teeth! But who is your friend?" Mrs. O'Grady glances over Emma's elegant attire.

"This is Emma Swan. Emma, this is..." Mrs. O'Grady pressed into Emma's side forcefully taking the young lady's arm into the crux of her own "Rosie O'Grady, owner of the Misthaven Hotel. Tell me dear are you an actress?"

Emma's eyes widened. "How did you know?"

Mrs. O'Grady smiled broadly. "I have a clear eye for talent, lass."

Mrs. O'Grady guided Emma to the concierge desk as if they were the oldest of chums and Mary Margaret felt obliged to follow after them. "How can I help you my dear Miss Swan?"

"Oh, please Mrs. O'Grady just 'Emma' is fine. I came to inquire after the room to rent and Mary Margaret was kind enough to share her's with me so if you could just tell me how much the deposit is..." Emma opened her purse and took out a sizable stack of bills which Mrs. O'Grady was quick to relieve her of as she retreated behind the desk. "There's need to double up Mary Margaret. I'll float you another week. And you Emma must have a room of your own! As luck would have it a nice sunny room just became available right next to Mary Margaret."

The petite brunette quirked an eyebrow. "You mean twelve-oh-eight?" Mrs. O'Grady nodded. Mary Margaret's brow furrowed. "But that's Dorothy Gale's room."

Mrs. O'Grady took out the resident registration and opened it to the current day's page. "Dorothy Gale just checked out." Mary Margaret scrutinized the register.

"That's odd, she'd only checked in just two days ago."

Mrs. O'Grady pulled the registry from Mary Margaret's hands and placed it on the counter in front of Emma. "Ah! The poor little lamb! Her Aunt Emily just passed away. Dorothy went home to grieve with her family."

Mary Margaret shook her head, "But Dorothy didn't have any other family, just a brindle Cairn terrier named Toto."

Mrs. O'Grady's tone grew impatient. "Well Mary Margaret all God's creatures need to grieve, even little dogs too!" And with a flourish the old woman handed Emma a ink pen to sign the registration. As Emma completed the registration Mrs. O'Grady took out a letter. "Oh I almost forgot a letter arrived for you today Mary Margaret." She gave the letter to the younger woman who opened it quickly. "It's from my mother."

"It's so nice to hear from your mum. I suppose you'll be receiving a letter from your mother soon, eh Emma?"

Emma's brow furrowed and she tried to focus on the registration, "Uh...no. She died when I was little."

"Oh such a shame!" Mrs O'Grady exclaimed. "But perhaps you'll hear from your father?"

Emma looked up sadly from the registration and signed. "My father passed away last year."

Mrs. O'Grady eyes widened. "No sisters? Brothers? No relations to speak of?"

Emma swallowed hard and looked uneasy. "None to speak of."

"Ah! How sad to be all alone in the world!" exclaimed Mrs. O'Grady. "Here's your key dear. Mary Margaret can show you the way to your room. Your belongings will be delivered by staff. Can I make you something dear? The kitchen is closed but can I bring you a warm beverage to soothe your nerves?"

"Well, my Nana used to make hot cocoa with cinnamon for me when I was a girl. If it's not a bother."

"Not a bother at all Emma. I have a special recipe for that. I'll make it for ya and bring it to your room myself." With that the old woman toddled off toward the kitchen.

The two young women crossed the lobby to the elevator and once they were out of Mrs. O'Grady's earshot Mary Margaret scoffed,

"Wow! O'Grady has taken a real shine to you, Emma. I don't think that woman has ever offered me even a cup of hot water for making plain macaroni! You've made quite the first impression!" She pressed the call button for the elevator.

Emma sighed sadly , "Or rather my money has. My father used to say 'Courtesy is a side-effect of currency.'"

Mary Margaret giggled. "You make wealth sound like some type of medicine."

"Actually an over abundance of wealth is more like a disease." Emma stated sardonically.

Mary Margaret comically clasped and raised her hands toward the ceiling. "Then may God smite me with it and may I never recover!" That earned a genuine laugh from Emma. The elevator doors finally opened and the two women entered.

"That was really melodramatic, Mary Margaret. Are you an actress?"

"No. I'm a stenographer, but I'm having a hard time finding the right boss... I mean the right job." She didn't want to reveal her plan to find and marry a rich man to her new friend since Emma had such an apparent aversion to wealth.

"I was first in my typing school back home and my teachers all said they'd never seen anyone faster at shorthand dictation. But for some reason I keep hitting dead ends in the clerical pools."

"Have you applied to Sincere Trust?" Emma asked. The elevator doors opened and the women walked down the hallway toward rooms 1206 and 1208.

"I don't think so. What's Sincere Trust?" Mary Margaret asked.

"An insurance company on the upper east side. According to a socialite friend of mine, it's one of the fastest growing companies in the country," Emma replied.

"Huh. I'll have to check it out."

Emma reached into her purse and took out what looked like a small news paper, "My friend is quoted here in this tabloid that is full of all the movers and shakers in New York. It makes for sensational reading."

She handed the paper to Mary Margaret whose eyes fell on an article about the city's wealthiest young bachelors.

"Quite sensational!" exclaimed the petite brunette

"Keep it! I have a subscription."

"Thank you, Emma. You are just a fountain of knowledge."

The blonde woman rolled her eyes. "I try. But maybe this way we can help one another. I can give you the hottest socialite gossip and you can give me better insight on being poor."

"Whoa. I'm not poor. I'm broke." Mary Margaret stated bluntly

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Is there a difference?" Mary Margaret nodded solemnly. "Poor is permanent. Broke can be fixed. So, what can I help you with?"

Emma replied, "Well there's something you said earlier of which I'm just dying of curiosity."

Oh dear. Did Emma pick up on Mary Margaret's scheme to wed a well-to-do business man? Was their friendship doomed before it really began? Mary Margaret took a deep breath and quietly asked, "What would you like to know?"

"What is macaroni?"

Mary Margaret smiled brightly and scoffed, "It's a foodstuff we broke people are very well acquainted with." She opened the door to her room and invited her new friend inside. Emma smiled, "It sounds wonderful!"

Mary Margaret giggled, "If you think that's special, just wait until you've tried a grilled cheese sandwich!"


	3. Chapter 3

Thoroughly Modern Mary Margaret

This story is my take on the "Thoroughly Modern Millie" story with OUAT characters and ships with some alterations of my own along the way. It's important to keep in mind that this story takes place in New York in 1922. In this chapter I mention the names of some actual historical figures and locations. PLEASE BE AWARE THAT THE SNOWING SHIP WILL TAKE A LOT OF TIME TO DEVELOP! I'm writing David's character more like the character of Jimmy from the musical "Thoroughly Modern Millie" who starts off as a drinking womanizer but he will be redeemed just hang on!

WARNINGS:: This story is rated T. This chapter has a main character take the Lord's name in vain, and alludes to an incident of heavy drinking.

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot or the characters

Chapter 3

That same Monday morning at about the time Emma Swan was checking-in to the low-brow Misthaven Hotel, David Nolan was walking into the high-brow Algonquin Hotel. He was on time, for once, for his bi-monthly visit with Ursula Van Charmant; the wealthy and famous nightclub singer. This was the first time she'd asked him to meet her at the highly acclaimed Round Table Restaurant.

"David, dear! There you are!" The beautifully elegant Mrs. Van Charmant stood with open arms as David approached her. They embraced and kissed each other on both cheeks as was their customary greeting.

"Ursula, you look lovely as always."

David looked around the well-appointment restaurant and sat down across from Mrs. Van Charmant.

"Quite a snazzy joint you picked for our tête-à-tête."

The ebony enchantress smiled broadly.

"Nothing but the best for you, David."

David noticed that besides Ursula and himself the only other people in the restaurant were the staff.

"I didn't even know that they served brunch at the Round Table."

She shrugged casually. "They don't. The head chef is a big fan of mine and I am meeting some friends here at noon, so..."

"You thought you'd kill two birds with one stone?"

Mrs. Van Charmant hummed nonchalantly and sipped a cup of hot tea as David glanced at the menu.

A waiter appeared with a large tray of assorted pastries and fresh fruit.

"David I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of ordering for the table, but if there's anything else you'd like, Lumière will take your order."

David's eyes widened.

"At these prices? No way. I'll just have a cup of joe." He quickly handed the menu to Lumière.

"Cream and sugar, sir?"

"Are they extra?"

Mrs. Van Charmant leaned over and covered David's hand with hers. "I invited you here, David. I'll pay for your meal. After all, I promised your father that I'd always take care of you."

David shook his head. "I'll take my coffee black, thanks."

Lumière bowed his head slightly.

"Very good, sir."

Once the waiter had taken his leave from their table David closed his fingers around Mrs. Van Charmant's hand with sincerity in his crystal blue eyes. "I don't need to be in debt to you, Ursula, any more than I already am. Thank you."

Mrs. Van Charmant smiled sweetly, squeezing David's hand before releasing it with a small pat. "Think nothing of it. Relax David. I didn't ask you here to talk about money."

"No? Well that's a relief."

Mrs. Van Charmant took one of the large Cherry Danish pastries off the tray and cut it down its center, placing half of it on a small ornate plate in front of David and kept the other half for herself.

Lumière arrived with a cup of coffee and more tea for Mrs. Van Charmant.

"Thank you Lumière."

The waiter bowed deeply at the waist and then smiled brightly at her.

"It's always a pleasure serving you Madam Van Charmant."

The waiter bowed again and then hurried away to make the preparations for the lunch seating. Mrs. Van Charmant took a bite of her pastry.

David's mouth turned up in a sly grin. "That waiter is another of your many ardent admirers, I take it?"

The tawny songstress dabbled at her mouth with a cream colored napkin.

"I know that you'll always be my biggest and most devoted fan."

"Well, of course. You know of my affinity for gorgeous blondes," David said with a mischievous grin, gesturing to Mrs. Van Charmant's chosen hair color, "Ursula, I think Madam C J Walker would have been envious of the magic you do with your hair."

Mrs. Van Charmant's lips pursed and a dark brown eyebrow rose, "Young man watch your tone when you talk about my dear friend Sarah, may she Rest In Peace...My Goodness...it just occurred to me that next Thursday will be the third anniversary of her passing. I really ought to get a garland to lay at her grave."

David swallowed some coffee.

"I'll make a wreath of roses for it, if you'd like."

"Oh David, thank you, yes. That would be wonderful!"

"Anything for you, Ursula."

They ate in companionable silence until Lumière reappeared at the table, this time with a gaggle of other garçons, the maître d'hôtel, and several sou chefs - all of them looking worried. "Pardon me, Madam but Mrs. Dorothy Parker just telephoned to say that she'll be late arriving for lunch and asked that we save a place next to you. Our staff is preparing the seating arrangements for your large gathering now however, considering how the gentlemen in your party...uh...favor your presence...the staff is unsure how best to accommodate Mrs. Parker's request."

David rolled his eyes. Although he knew the alluring sable-skinned widow seated across from him captured the fancy of many men, this was bordering on the ridiculous.

Mrs. Van Charmant barely batted an eye at the waiter's befuddled expression. "Lumière please have a tray of Crudités without vinaigrette prepared and put it at the place setting right of my usual seat at the table. The gentlemen in our party will definitely leave that seat open for Mrs. Parker because they despise fresh vegetables more than I despise the films of D.W. Griffith, and that's saying something!" The staff nodded and chatted in agreement, with Lumière being the most vocal amongst them.

"Brilliant! Well said Madam! We will do precisely as you say! Chef Bouché! Crudités sans pour autant vinaigrette S'il vous plaît!" The staff hurried off.

David sat back in his seat.

"Wow! That was impressive Ursula! Soon you'll be running this swanky joint!"

Mrs. Van Charmant chuckled and waved her hand dismissively. "Hardly, David. But, I did score major brownie points with the staff when I comped them 2 mezzanine tickets each to my concert last month. The hard-working blue collar men and women of this country deserve some time off to enjoy themselves. And I happen to know Lumière's sweetheart was very appreciative of a fancy night out with her man because now she's his fiancée! Speaking of love and marriage..."

David groaned. "Oh Lord, here we go!"

"It's high time you settle down and find your someone. You're nearly thirty-years-old, living recklessly, bouncing from woman to woman, and what has it ever got you?"

David shrugged. "A lot of fun Saturday nights?"

"A whole lot of nothing, David. That's all. But you deserve so much more. If you'd just..."

David's hackles rose up as he interrupted,

"Just what Ursula? Marry some little homemaker? Have a few kids? Become father of the year? Would that make you happy?"

Mrs. Van Charmant's warm brown eyes searched David's stormy blue ones. "It's not about making me happy, sugar. It's about you moving on."

David's brow furrowed and his voice went low. "What are you talking about?"

Mrs. Van Charmant sighed sadly. "It's difficult for you, I know, to trust. To let your heart open up again. Because long ago you loved someone, so very much, and you lost her."

David looked down and shook his head, "That was different, she was...no I...I didn't lose her - she died."

David felt her move to sit beside him and take his hands in hers.

"Death is a kind of loss, David. Love is love no matter what kind or form it takes. And losing the person you loved with your whole heart has hurt you so deeply that you've been running from love ever since. But sometimes, even when you run from it, love finds you."

David's tumultuous expression morphed into one of perplexity.

"What do you mean?"

Mrs. Van Charmant folded her hands into her lap gingerly.

"A little birdie told me of your act of chivalry for a young lady about two weeks ago."

David leaned back in his chair and scoffed. "'Little birdie.' I see what you did there. Nice word play. Did this birdie mention I was inordinately hammered when I told her this story?"

Mrs. Van Charmant smiled wryly. "Well, I just took that for granted, David. Liquor always loosens your tongue, but that's irrelevant. I distinctly remember she said you told her that you were the fair maiden's white knight; rescuing her from thieves, retrieving her belongings, and escorting her to safety."

David waved his hand dismissively. "Ok, I retrieved belongings and pointed her in the direction of the Misthaven Hotel. The thing with the thieves...er... not so much."

"And you gave the maiden a sweet nickname of..."

"Snow," they said simultaneously. David's heart punched him in the gut. He hadn't said her name in almost 2 weeks but the moment the name passed his lips a vision of the petite brunette with her jade-green eyes and bright beautiful smile appeared before his mind's eye and a funny little smile crept into the corner of his mouth.

Mrs. Van Charmant's dark eyes widened at David's love-struck expression. "Ah, there it is! Love! So you do remember her!"

David was suddenly pulled out of his reverie by Mrs. Van Charmant's words and he stood up quickly nearly knocking over his chair.

"Wait? Love? What? No. I mean yes. No. I mean I remember Snow, sure, but what has that got to do with love?!"

Mrs. Van Charmant smiled gently. "Everything, sugar. It's got everything to do with you moving on. Think David! Before Snow, did you ever remember the names of any other women you met? I can answer that for you. No. You didn't. So that must mean that this Snow is someone special."

"But she's not in...I mean she's..."

"What David? Is she mean? Lazy? Unattractive?

"Well, no. She's sweet and funny. She had all these resumes floating around and she'd come from a small town far away to find work here. And when she was sad about what happened to her I made her laugh. And she looked up at me with her big beautiful eyes and she is just...wonderful...But that doesn't mean she'd be interested in me. Look at me! I'm just aimless and...handsome. I'm just...just."

"You're just in love with Snow."

David sat down and ran his hand through his short sandy-blonde hair.

"But I don't remember her real name! 'Snow' is just a nickname I gave her."

"Uh-huh. And what nickname did she give you?"

A dopey smile appeared on David's face. "Charming. Snow called me Charming."

"Well, I'm not a big believer in signs, but if I was I'd say a rather large sign just hit you upside your stupidly handsome head. So? Why are you still sitting here? Go to the Misthaven Hotel and ask her out!"

David stood straight up

"You're right! I need to go!" He kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks Ursula, for everything!" With that he ran out of the restaurant and the out of the Algonquin hotel and got in one of the taxis outside.

Back at the Misthaven Hotel, just a minute after Emma and Mary Margaret entered her room, someone knocked rapidly on her door. Mary Margaret called out, "It's open!"

In rushed a strawberry blonde with a bobbed haircut, much like Mary Margaret's, but with a stripe of pure white hair on the right side of her head. Mary Margaret stood surprised as the girl nearly crushed her in a hug as if they hadn't seen each other in years.

"Uh, okay, Anna. Not that I don't appreciate the hug, but I just saw you at breakfast a few hours ago."

"Oh, Mary Margaret, thank goodness you're here! I think Elsa might have some kind of stomach bug. At this moment she's puking her guts out in the bathroom at the end of the hall."

Mary Margaret grimaced.

"That's awful! Oh! Don't you and she have callbacks for a musical revue this morning?"

Anna nodded and grasped on to Mary Margaret's forearms.

"Yes, in about 45 minutes! We desperately need to get in that show to get Aunt Ingrid off our backs about returning home to Maine instead of pursing our dreams in New York and to be honest neither of us wants to be mooching off our wealthy snobby aunt! But none of that matters at this moment because Elsa's tossing her cookies! Oh please Mary Margaret can you please convince my sister to see a doctor!"

Anna had a tendency to over-dramatize and talk faster than a North Dakota cattle auctioneer, but there was genuine concern for her older sister etched into her face. Mary Margaret looked over her shoulder at Emma whose expression was that of shock at the ginger girl. Then Emma looked at Mary Margaret and waved her hand urging her to go.

"I'll come with you Anna in a moment I just... Emma?"

"I think I'll just go to my room and get settled."

Anna caught sight of Emma for the first time since entering so abruptly.

"Oh! I didn't realize you had company!"

Mary Margaret waved her hand dismissively. "No worries. I'll see you later Emma. Come on Anna, let's go check on Elsa."

Emma headed to room 1208 and the 2 short-haired women hurried down the hall.

Anna's brow furrowed.

"I'm sorry I interrupted your visit."

Mary Margaret shook her head, "It's fine Anna. Emma's going to have some unpacking to do. She's moving into Dorothy's old room."

Anna cocked an eyebrow.

"That's ridiculous! Where's Dorothy going to go?"

Mary Margaret stopped right in front of the bathroom door.

"O'Grady said she checked out and went back home. Her Aunt died."

The bathroom door opened suddenly. "Who's aunt died?"

Mary Margaret took in the sight of her queasy-looking friend.

"Dorothy's Aunt. Elsa are you alright? Anna said you were sick."

Elsa's blue eyes were dimmer than usual and there was a sheen of perspiration coating her pale brow. "I'm fine Mary Margaret, really...I... I must have eaten something that didn't agree with my stomach that's all." When Anna began to protest Elsa looked her in the eye and put her hand on her sister's shoulder. "It's nothing that can't be made better by a Bromo Seltzer and some rest."

Once Elsa was laying on her cot back in room 1212 Anna visibly relaxed. Mary Margaret grabbed an extra blanket for her friend, draped it over Elsa's lap and sat on the edge of the cot. Mary Margaret gently moved some errand strands of light blonde hair off of Elsa's sweaty brow and placed the back of her hand against the woman's forehead. "Well, you're not running a fever, so that's good."

"See, Anna, I told you. I'm fine. You go to the callback audition and I'll get some rest."

Anna was hesitant and then looked at Mary Margaret who nodded. "I'll stay here and keep an eye on Elsa. You go down to that theater and knock their socks off!"

Anna grinned widely. "Okay!" She kissed her sister's forehead and grasped Mary Margaret's hand. "I'll come right back here afterwards. Thank you Mary Margaret. You're a true friend."

Anna took off running down the hall to the elevators.

Just after Anna and Mary Margaret went to tend to Elsa, Emma placed the key in the lock of 1208 and that's when Mrs. O'Grady appeared with a cup of hot cocoa. The older Irish woman smiled as she handed the beverage to Emma. "Here you are my dear, as promised, one cup of my special cocoa."

"Thank you, Mrs. O'Grady."

Emma peered into the steaming cup; her lovely brow furrowing slightly.

"Is there anything wrong dear?"

Emma looked apologetic, "Oh no, Mrs. O'Grady I'm sure the cocoa is fine it's just..."

"Just?" Mrs. O'Grady encouraged.

Emma shook her head, "Like I mentioned to you downstairs, my Nana always made my cocoa with..."

Mrs. O'Grady's expression lit up with realization. "Cinnamon! Oh my dear little lamb! Please forgive an old lady for being forgetful. Don't worry my dear I'll be right back with your cinnamon." She turned and toddled off down the hall, at the same time two men arrived with Emma's luggage.

One of the men was quite large with broad shoulders and curly brown hair, but Emma hardly noticed him, instead her gaze fell upon the other man with an equally strong, but slender build, slightly mussed dark hair she longed to run her fingers through and eyes the purest blue she'd ever seen. What was more surprising to Emma other than the racing of her own heart when she looked at this man, was that he seemed to remark her with the same regard. She stepped forward as they approached the door to her room. The lovely blonde and the gorgeous blue-eyed man seemed to stare at each other for an eternity until interrupted by a clearing of the throat of the larger man, who then spoke in lilting Irish accent, "We're here to deliver your luggage to your room, Miss Swan."

Emma blushed. "Oh! Of course," then her gaze returned to the other man whose cheeks turned rosy as he shyly ducked his head slightly and nervously scratched the back of his neck while looking up through dark thick eyelashes at the woman still holding the large cup of hot cocoa with both hands. She smiled brightly.

"And please call me Emma."

The larger man gave a short smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, while the other man suddenly found the tall potted plant on the floor simply fascinating.

"I'm Liam, and this chatty chap here is my brother, Killian."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both! Um, would one of you mind holding this cup while I unlock the door?" Killian's warm hands wrapped around Emma's, a gesture that sent a tingling sensation through Emma from the top of her head down to the tips of her toes. Her jade-green eyes met his sapphire ones when she softly thanked him. Just then Anna sprinted by the three of them, off to her callback audition.

Back in room twelve-twelve Mary Margaret tucked her friend into bed. "I saw that, you know."

Elsa raised a light thin eyebrow. "Saw what?"

"That look you gave Anna when you told her to go. It's the same look my mother had on her face when she'd tell my brothers and sisters they could take a second helping of supper because she was already full, even though she really wasn't. It's the face of someone who is sacrificing to provide for someone they love."

Elsa sighed. "Do you think I shouldn't have convinced her to go to that callback?" Mary Margaret rose from the cot and picked up a small trash can from the other side of the room and set it down on the right side of Elsa's cot.

"No. I'm not saying that. But I know that you're not being fully truthful about your illness."

Elsa sat up and huffed, "I'm not sick." A sudden wave of nausea caused her to heave into the trash can. Mary Margaret calmly leaned across the cot and held back her friend's long white-blonde hair. "Of course you're not sick. Why I bet there are hospitals just full of perfectly healthy people vomiting into trash cans," Mary Margaret quipped ironically.

Elsa coughed a little then pinched her brow and muttered, "I'm not sick."

While smoothing down Elsa's hair Mary Margaret's fingers ran across a long thin chain necklace creeping up Elsa's neckline. "I didn't know you wear jewelry."

Elsa's body stiffened. "I don't! Well not usually." She turned causing the chain to slip out of Mary Margaret's fingers.

A rosy blush crept into Elsa's pale cheeks and Mary Margaret's eyes widened with realization. Anna had told her she suspected Elsa had a sweetheart but Elsa would never admit anything; she'd just blush. "Could that necklace be a gift from your secret beau?"

Elsa stammered.

Suddenly from out in the hallway there was a sound reminiscent of breaking glass and Mary Margaret stood up with a start. "I wonder what that was?" Elsa shrugged her shoulders, inwardly sighing in relief.

Out in the hallway of the 12th floor Killian didn't notice when Anna ran past him; her little feet pounding against the hardwood floor. Killian could only hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears when he touched Emma's soft, delicate hands as he took hold of the hot cup. After she thanked him, he responded gallantly, "You're most assuredly welcome, Emma." Then they smiled at each other. Liam sighed exasperatedly and said, "I'll just take the luggage into the room then, yeah?" If Emma and Killian had heard what Liam said they didn't respond; enraptured in each other's gaze that they were. Liam unlocked room 1208 and carried the luggage past them.

Eleven floors below them Anna blew through the front door of the hotel and ran into a sandy-blonde haired man who just had arrived at the hotel by taxi.

"Whoa! Are you okay?" The stranger asked Anna who quickly responded, "I'm fine. Sorry I ran into you. Wait. Who are you?"

"David Nolan."

"I'm Anna Arendelle. Well, nice to meet you and goodbye David Nolan." With that Anna took off running at a pace Olympic track medalists would have a hard time beating.

Slightly bamboozled, David Nolan entered the Misthaven Hotel. Across the lobby he saw a long-legged brunette step into what appeared to be an elevator, but otherwise the lobby was empty. He approached the concierge desk and rang the bell. From across the lobby he nearly jumped in surprise at the sound of an Irish woman's voice shout, "NO SOLICITORS!"

David turned and suddenly he was being poked in the chest by a bony old finger connected to the angriest old woman he'd ever seen in his life.

"I'm Rosie O'Grady, the owner of this hotel and I'm not interested in anything you're offering, so get out!" She poked him harder.

David held up his palms defensively, "I'm not. Ow! I'm not selling. Ah! Quit that will ya?! Listen ma'am I'm not a solicitor!"

"Oh!"

Mrs. O'Grady's posture relaxed and she stopped poking him, then said as sweet as cream, "Well why didn't you say so?"

And she crossed behind the concierge desk where she set down a small container of cinnamon. David would have thought it odd that the elderly hotel owner would carry around a spice, but everything about this woman seemed odd. She regarded him briefly then said, "This hotel is a boardinghouse for single young ladies only, and since you are male, I assume you are a visiting relation?"

"No, not exactly."

"Not exactly?

"No."

The old woman squinted at him.

"'No' to which part? Not exactly male or not exactly a visiting relation?"

David scoffed, "The second part. I'm a visitor here to see a resident who is no relation to me."

Mrs. O'Grady smiled widely.

"Oh! So you're a suitor then?"

David swallowed hard.

"Uh, yes, ma'am."

Mrs. O'Grady expression turned dull and bored and she gestured to a small plaque on the wall behind her. "Visiting hours for gentlemen callers are in the dining room from four PM to five-thirty PM on Wednesdays and from one PM to three PM on Sundays and Holidays. Good day!" She waved her hand dismissively.

David's brow furrowed. "But today is Monday."

Mrs. O'Grady nodded and added in condescending tone, "That's right. Today is Monday, May 15th, 1922. Good day!" She waved her hand dismissively.

David sighed in frustration.

"Mrs. O'Grady this is important. Could I just..."

The old woman made a clearing sound of disgust at the back of her throat. "Uh, fine!

You can leave a message for her here at the front desk."

She reached under the counter and brought out the guest registration along with a piece of paper and the registration ink pen. "Name?"

"David Nolan."

Mrs. O'Grady's eyes screwed shut and she took a cleansing breath mumbling "Faith and begorrah!"

"The RESIDENT'S name, Mr. Nolan!"

"Oh! Uh..." David couldn't remember Snow's real name!

It was then that David Nolan realized with some level of clarity that he, at this very moment, very much resembled the posterior of a horse.

Mrs. O'Grady angrily slapped the guest registration book down hard on the counter. "Mr. Nolan, am I to understand that for the last several minutes you've interrupted me from my duties to talk to a lass whose name you don't know?!"

David must have known he sounded desperate or crazy (a typical symptom of a man in love) but he just couldn't help himself from uttering, "I know her name I just can't remember it! "

Mrs. O'Grady stared at him blankly. "That is, bar-none the most insane thing I've ever heard. Get out now before I call the police." David reached for the guest registration and Mrs. O'Grady grabbed the other end. David pleaded, "If I could just look in this book for an entry from 2 weeks ago I'll know her name when I see it."

Mrs. O'Grady was surprisingly strong for such a weak and frail old woman as she held onto the book. "You'll do no such thing!"

Mrs. O'Grady leaned in toward David and her pale blue eyes narrowed as she finally recognized the man before her. "I've seen you before. Two months ago. You showed up at the door every other night. Each time with a different lass. That's why you don't know her name! You don't know any of their names! Get out!"

David let go of the registration book and backed away from the counter. "Wait! Mrs. O'Grady I can explain!"

"Skirt chaser!"

"Please it's not like that!"

"Womanizer!"

"I just need to see her!"

Mrs. O'Grady grabbed the container of cinnamon from the counter and threw it at David. It burst open on contact and enveloped him in a brown cloud of sweet spiciness.

"Get out you masher!"

David coughed and sneezed and fumbled his way out of the Misthaven Hotel, leaving a furious Mrs O'Grady in his wake. Terrific.


	4. Chapter 4

Thoroughly Modern Mary Margaret

This story is my take on the "Thoroughly Modern Millie" story with OUAT characters and ships with some alterations of my own along the way. It's important to keep in mind that this story takes place in New York in 1922. In the history of the United States there was a time when Anti-Irish-Immigrant sentiment was high. So, that sentiment affects characters in this story. The last chapter was heavy on the Snowing ship. This chapter will focus more on the Captain Swan ship and the reveal of a third ship that is not on show, but is my favorite fan fiction-only ship.

WARNINGS:: This story is rated T. This chapter has a very angst-filled cliffhanger. This chapter has some profanity, alludes to an incident of heavy drinking, alludes to an incident of consensual pre-marital sex.

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot or the characters

In the last chapter:

Emma placed the key in the lock of 1208 and that's when Mrs. O'Grady appeared with a cup of hot cocoa. The older Irish woman smiled as she handed the beverage to Emma. "Here you are my dear, as promised, one cup of my special cocoa."

"Thank you, Mrs. O'Grady."

Emma peered into the steaming cup; her lovely brow furrowing slightly.

"Is there anything wrong dear?"

Emma looked apologetic, "Oh no, Mrs. O'Grady I'm sure the cocoa is fine it's just..."

"Just?" Mrs. O'Grady encouraged.

Emma shook her head, "Like I mentioned to you downstairs, my Nana always made my cocoa with..."

Mrs. O'Grady's expression lit up with realization. "Cinnamon! Oh my dear little lamb! Please forgive an old lady for being forgetful. Don't worry my dear I'll be right back with your cinnamon." She turned and toddled off down the hall, at the same time two men arrived with Emma's luggage. One was quite large with broad shoulders and curly brown hair, but Emma hardly noticed him, instead her gaze fell upon the other man with an equally strong, but slender build, slightly mussed dark hair she longed to run her fingers through and eyes the purest blue she'd ever seen. What was more surprising to Emma other than the racing of her own heart when she looked at this man, was that he seemed to remark her with the same regard. She stepped forward as they approached the door to her room. The lovely blonde and the gorgeous blue-eyed man seemed to stare at each other for an eternity until interrupted by a clearing of the throat of the larger man, who then spoke in lilting Irish accent, "We're here to deliver your luggage to your room, Miss Swan."

Emma blushed. "Oh! Of course," then her gaze returned to the other man whose cheeks turned rosy as he shyly ducked his head slightly and nervously scratched the back of his neck while looking up through dark thick eyelashes at the woman still holding the large cup of hot cocoa with both hands. She smiled brightly.

"And please call me Emma."

The larger man gave a short smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, while the other man suddenly found the tall potted plant on the floor simply fascinating.

"I'm Liam, and this chatty chap here is my brother, Killian."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both! Um, would one of you mind holding this cup while I unlock the door?"

Killian's warm hands wrapped around Emma's, a gesture that sent a tingling sensation through Emma from the top of her head down to the tips of her toes. Her jade-green eyes met his sapphire ones when she softly thanked him. Just then Anna sprinted by the three of them, off to her callback audition.

Killian didn't notice when Anna ran past him; her little feet pounding against the hardwood floor. Killian could only hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears when he touched Emma's soft, delicate hands as he took hold of the hot cup. After she thanked him, he responded gallantly, "You're most assuredly welcome, Emma." Then they smiled at each other. Liam sighed exasperatedly and said, "I'll just take the luggage into the room then, yeah?" If Emma and Killian had heard what Liam said they didn't respond; enraptured in each other's gaze that they were. Liam unlocked room 1208 and carried the luggage past them.

Chapter 4

On the 12th floor of the Misthaven Hotel the elevator chimed and Emma glanced past Killian and down the hallway, expecting to see Mrs. O'Grady, but instead a long-legged brunette with a very high hemline exited the elevator. Emma's attention turned back to the handsome man in front of her. The tall brunette cast a confused glance at both of them, but said nothing and continued down the hallway toward room 1212.

When Emma glanced toward the elevator Killian looked down at the cup in his calloused hands. "So... Is this hot cocoa?"

"Yes," Emma replied, "Mrs. O'Grady made it for me."

Killian's eyes widened and jaw tightened at the realization that the old woman had likely put something in this cup to cause Emma to pass out because Mrs. O'Grady admitted earlier that she drugged the girl in the blue gingham dress. His brother's question to Emma about where to put the luggage called her attention away from Killian briefly and he decided in that moment to act. He dumped the beverage into the potted plant in the hallway and then dropped the cup on the hardwood floor, breaking it. Then he threw up his hands and made an exclamation of dismay, causing Emma to whirl around toward him. "A thousand apologies Emma! The hot cocoa spilled a bit and burned my skin and I dropped the cup! I'm so sorry." He nervously bent down to pick up the pieces of the cup off the floor, accidentally cutting his left palm on the broken pieces in the process. "Bloody Hell!" he exclaimed and hissed in pain as he rose to his feet.

"Your hand! It's bleeding," Emma exclaimed and she grabbed his right wrist and dragged him into the room with her. Killian's heart was soaring. Emma pulled a first aid kit out of her luggage and Killian winced slightly. "It's nothing. Just a scratch."

Emma insisted, "You're hurt. Let me help you."

He could practically hear Liam's eyes rolling. Killian wasn't hurting badly but he couldn't resist the tender ministrations of this golden haired angel.

In Elsa's room Mary Margaret walked toward the door and when she opened it she was surprised to see her friend and fellow Misthaven Hotel resident, Ruby Lucas whose right fist was raised to knock on the door.

"Ruby! What's going on?"

The tall brunette guffawed. "I was about to ask you that." Mary Margaret stood aside and Ruby entered the room. "I just ran into Anna in the lobby and she said you are nursing our favorite ice princess back to health."

Elsa groaned. "I played the Snow Queen in a children's theatre series just one summer and you will never let me live it down?"

"Nope!" Ruby smiled as she sat on the end of Elsa's cot and looked up at her petite brunette friend. "She doesn't look sick to me. Maybe a little hungover."

That earned her a little kick from Elsa's foot under the covers.

"I don't drink!"

Ruby scoffed. "Maybe now anymore! But New Year's Eve last year up on the roof you shared a flask of rum with that that big Irish hunk that does the maintenance work around the hotel. What's his name? Oh! Liam!"

Elsa's cheeks turned bright pink.

Mary Margaret eyes widened.

"Um, Elsa I'm going to rinse out the trash can in the bathroom. Ruby can you stay here with her? I'll only be a moment."

Ruby did a mock salute. "It will be my honor to guard the ice princess until your return Captain Blanchard!"

Elsa could help but giggle.

When Mary Margaret exited room 1212 with the trash can she almost immediately found herself face to face with Liam, who was closing the broom closet while holding a dust pan and brush in his large hands.

Mary Margaret stood in front of Elsa's door.

"Oh hi Liam."

A kind smile appeared on his handsome face.

"Good morning Miss Blanchard may I empty that trash can for you?"

Considering the contents of this particular trash can Mary Margaret hesitated. "Uh no Liam, I am just going to rinse it out in the bathroom."

He glanced at the door to room 1212 and then back at Mary Margaret. His brow furrowed.

"Is something wrong?"

"It's nothing. Elsa's just feeling a bit under the weather."

Liam's eyes widened and concern clouded his expression. "Is she ok? Should I call for a doctor?"

Mary Margaret attempted to reassure him. "Something she ate disagreed with her stomach is all. No need for a doctor. I'm taking care of her."

Liam looked a little less distraught but he swallowed hard. "If you need anything for her, you'll let me know, yeah?"

"Certainly." Mary Margaret nodded then walked to the bathroom at the end of the hall. Liam's shoulders slumped and he went in the opposite direction to clean up the broken cup.

In room 1208 Emma took out a tiny bottle of iodine and some small gauze pads from her first aid kit. She carefully cleaned the cut on Killian's right hand with the gauze and iodine. She looked up at Killian thoughtfully and then removed a delicate pale pink scarf from her suitcase. "We need to bind the wound." She began wrapping his hand with the soft silky material. It was an unnecessary gesture certainly, but Killian wouldn't have protested anything Emma suggested. To him everything was right with the world as long as he was in Emma's presence. He was a goner for sure. And the tiny kiss the sweet nursemaid placed on top of the pretty knot she'd made convinced him that she was a goner, too.

"Thank you for tending to my wound Emma."

"You're most assuredly welcome, Killian." She replied, echoing his earlier response. Then they grinned at each other like adorable idiots.

Neither of the twitter-pated fools noticed that Liam had left the room, obtained a dust pan and brush from the broom closet in the hall and had cleared away the remnants of the broken cup. He stood in the open doorway and stated loudly, "Well, now all that's sorted my brother and I must go, Miss."

"Well, it was lovely meeting you." She meant the sentiment for both of them but only looked at Killian when she said it.

He sighed. They were standing so close. She was still holding his injured hand. The temptation to wrap one of her golden curls around his finger was strong and his right hand began to reach for her hair, but that's when Liam's large hand grabbed Killian by the shoulder and dragged him out of Emma's room.

She called after them,

"Farewell for now!" She waved.

Killian waved his scarf-covered hand

"Farewell, Emma, for now."

When they entered the elevator going down Liam barely let the doors shut before he laid in to his love-sick-puppy-dog dolt of a little brother. "What in heaven's name was that nonsense?"

Killian feigned ignorance and shrugged. "I don't know what you're on about. Emma's a charming lass don't you think?"

Liam lifted his eyes and growled. "Damn it Killian! You know O'Grady's number one rule! No fraternization with the residents! The old bird could throw us in the clink for the rest of our bloody lives if she's got half a mind to. Or would you risk mum's life over some girl?!"

Killian snapped, "She's not just some girl! O'Grady tried to poison her just like she did the girl in her office earlier today. Lately that's been O'Grady's scheme. Drug a girl, and then ship her off to God-knows-where to marry-God-knows who."

Liam sighed sadly, "There's no God in what that O'Grady witch does."

Killian turned to his brother, "And don't get on me about fraternization Liam, because we both know you've been spending the wee hours of the morning courting the blonde in room twelve-twelve in stairwells and fire escapes for over a year!"

Fire burned in Liam's eyes. "You leave Elsa out of this!"

Killian countered, "Oh I'll leave her out, but what about O'Grady? Are you ready to push a laundry cart with Elsa in it off marry some git in Timbuktu?!"

Liam shook his head and turned to face the closed doors, "O'Grady would never touch Elsa. Her sister Anna lives here too. And they've got their doting Aunt Ingrid back home in Maine. O'Grady never goes after the women whose families would miss them."

Killian slammed his body into Liam's, knocking him to the floor punched the elevator stop button with his right fist. "Listen to yourself you pig-headed arse! One lass is safe because she has a family yet another lass is doomed because she's an orphan? You can't reason away one person's life over another. That's what dad did to us! He traded his freedom for ours and now he's a rotting revolting corpse! I tell ya if I had any power I'd wish that bastard back to life just so I could kill him myself. We're paying the price for his crimes. And now we're criminals ourselves! It drives me mad just thinking about what our place is in this world. I thought there was no hope outside my faith that some day we'd be free men. But there's no freedom after doing what we've done. I thought there was no coming back from that darkness. Then today, I looked up and saw a ray of hope. That angel upstairs is as pure as anything I've ever seen in my life. And she looked at me as if I was someone. I'm no longer willing to sit in the dark now that I've seen her light! But what about you brother? What's made you so dark? I used to look up to you and follow your lead. You were my bloody hero! Why are you so willing to follow O'Grady's horrible scheme? And don't you dare say that you're doing it for mum. Because if mum knew what kind of hell her sons had to go through for her safety she'd sooner let the angels take her than draw another breath. So what brother? Why are you doing this?" Killian's back hit against the wall of the elevator and he slid down to the floor.

Liam sat with his forearms on his knees and his head hung low and Killian could see the tears in his brother's eyes.

Softy Liam spoke, "I'm doing this for Elsa... and for our child. I love Elsa. I told her so the night I proposed to her. She didn't say 'Yes' right away but she started to cry and that's when she told me that she's going to have our baby. I kissed her and held her in my arms and then when I asked her again to be my wife, she said 'Yes' and told me she'd always love me and in that moment I was the happiest I had ever been. Happier than I ever deserved to be. Until O'Grady found out. She threatened to kick Elsa and her sister out on the street and send me to prison. She said no court in the world would believe that a good woman like Elsa consented to relations with a worthless, lazy, Irish lush like me. O'Grady's words, not mine. She'd said make certain that while Elsa is in her last days of confinement her Aunt Ingrid, who despises me, would tell a judge I forced myself on Elsa and they'd sentence me to death. I don't want my child to grow up without a father. And I will never abandon Elsa. That's what O'Grady's got over me. That's why I sold my soul to that witch."

Liam got back on his feet and walked over to the control panel, pushing the button for the sub-level.

Killian scrubbed his right hand over his face. "So, what now brother? We're both going to hell."

Liam shook his head sadly. "We're just... just going down to the basement."

Killian scoffed bitterly. "Same difference."


	5. Chapter 5

Thoroughly Modern Mary Margaret

This story is my take on the "Thoroughly Modern Millie" story with OUAT characters and ships with some alterations of my own along the way. All of the speaking characters in this story part of the OUAT universe.. To the anonymous reviewer who wondered who Rosie O'Grady is I will give you the following hints: O'Grady is female. She is younger than she appears to be. And a line of her dialogue in this chapter is the same as a line she sang in Season 6 Musical episode of OUAT.

WARNINGS:: This story is rated T. This chapter has a some profanity.

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot or the characters

After Killian and Liam left her room, Emma began unpacking her luggage. She removed her stationery box set and set it on the bed. There was a little piece of paper peaking out from under the lid. She lifted the lid and there was a little note in elegant scrawl that simply read, "Good Luck Swan! - U" Emma smiled at the note, placed it on the nightstand, and continued to unpack. The closet was too small to hang all of her outfits, many of the drawers of the small vanity didn't have handles, and the springs on the small bed creaked loudly. She happily thought to herself, "This is truly living!" When she was finished unpacking she moved her now-empty luggage off the bed, accidentally jostling her stationary box, causing it to fall off the bed and onto the floor. Emma knelt down to find that 2 of the pencils had escaped the box and rolled under the bed. She laid down on the hardwood floor and reached underneath the bed. Her fingers touched the wooden objects and something else beneath them. She pulled the pencils and a piece of plain stationary paper out from under the bed. She realized it was a letter and her eyes widened as she read it.

David Nolan was outside in an alley not far from the hotel, brushing cinnamon out of his face, hair and clothes. Fantastic. Now what? He really wanted to find Snow and show her he was serious about her, but how seriously would she think he was, partially covered in cinnamon? He had to admit he'd never felt so off-balance before. For lack of a better idea he decided to fold his arms across his chest, lean back against the side of the Hotel Misthaven and wait to see if Snow emerged from the front door. It would also give him a chance to regain his bearings.

Mary Margaret returned to room 1212 to find Ruby regaling Elsa with what she was sure was one of Ruby's classic theatre stories, which had Elsa laughing.

Mary Margaret set down the now empty trash can and joined her friends at Elsa's bedside.

"Everything's alright here I see."

Elsa nodded.

"Ruby was just telling me about the time she joined the chorus of a musical late in the production schedule and learned all the choreography right before the night of the performance. She hadn't had anything to eat and was famished after dancing all day so when she spotted a slice of hot lasagna backstage she wolfed it down, which ended up getting her canned from the show."

Ruby shrugged. "How was I supposed to know the lasagna was a prop? And you know what? I regret nothing because it was the best lasagna I ever ate!"

Mary Margaret giggled at first, but stopped when she saw Elsa yawning. "Are you tired Elsa?"

"Yeah. I think I might nap for a little while."

Ruby and Mary Margaret took that as their cue to leave.

"I'll be back to check on you later," Mary Margaret promised as she shut the door.

When the elevator delivered Liam and Killian to the basement Mrs. O'Grady was waiting for them with a laundry bin, her English accent very apparent because none of the residents were around. "Where have you two been? We're going up to room 1208."

Killian's eyebrows rose into his hairline and he hid his injured hand behind his back as the old woman pushed the cart into the elevator. As the doors closed Mrs. O'Grady pushed the button for the 12th floor. "Hopefully Miss Swan drank her cocoa. If not, there's always this," she reached into a pocket in her skirt and she pulled out a handkerchief and a bottle of chloroform. "That rich little orphan won't know what hit her!"

Killian stared daggers at the back of O'Grady's red and gray head, a murderous rage burned in his veins, and his right hand tightened into a fist. Liam placed a calming hand on his brother's shoulder, whispered "Just trust me" then spoke to Mrs. O'Grady, "'Tis a shame, her being so wealthy. If stayed around longer you could profit from her more."

The old woman turned and glared at Liam. "What are you talking about? I'm going to make a fortune marrying her off!"

Liam stroked his chin thoughtfully, "True. But it's like you said earlier 'supply and demand' her value won't decrease in say a month from now, but think of all the things you could charge her extra for and being as naïve and rich as she is, she'll pay without a batting an eye."

Mrs. O'Grady pondered a moment. Then a villainous grin spread across her face. "What a wickedly brilliant idea! I'll wring every last cent I can from that well-to-do waif and then I'll wed her to the highest bidder! Nicely done Liam. There maybe hope for you yet in the criminal underworld."

Liam shrugged and tried to appear nonchalant. "Never thought of myself as the wicked sort. I didn't consider the power of evil schemes before, ma'am."

"Well, just don't sell yourself short,"

Mrs. O'Grady advised, "Evil may be powerful, but wicked always wins."

Once outside of room 1212 Ruby turned to the Mary Margaret with curved eyebrow, "Ok, what's going on around here MM?

"What do you mean?"

Mary Margaret tried to keep her face impassive. She had a good idea about what was going on with Elsa's nausea and fatigue, especially after her earlier encounter with Liam and how Elsa blushed at the mention of his name. Mary Margaret had seen the signs of morning sickness before from her mother's multiple pregnancies but she wasn't going to share her suspicions with Ruby. It wasn't Mary Margaret's secret to tell.

But Ruby surprised her with her question.

"Where's Dorothy and why is some blonde moving into her room?"

As if on cue Emma emerged from room 1208. "Mary Margaret how is your friend?"

"Elsa's seems to be better and is resting right now. Let me introduce you to Ruby Lucas here, another one of our resident thespians. Ruby, this is Emma Swan our newest Misthaven resident. O'Grady placed her in room 1208; she says Dorothy went home today because her grandmother died."

A dark expression passed over Ruby's face. "So since Emma's now in her room, I guess that means Dorothy's not coming back?"

"I...I honestly don't know. Ruby, are you ok?"

Ruby rubbed her forehead with her fingers.

"Yeah, I'm just a little tired. I was up late last night helping Ashley run lines for that play that's so off-Broadway that it's practically in New Jersey. So, maybe I'll just take a little nap. Uh, nice meeting you Emma."

"Nice meeting you too."

Ruby entered room 1210 and shut the door leaving Mary Margaret and Emma standing disconcertingly in the hallway.

Emma spoke first.

"Well that was awkward."

Mary Margaret agreed. "Yeah. I wasn't expecting that from Ruby. I'll have to check on her later." She started to walk back toward her room and Emma walked beside her.

"You really take care of your friends don't you?"

Mary Margaret shrugged. "Yeah I guess I do. It probably has to do with the way I was brought up. I'm the eldest and I ended up taking care of my brothers and sisters when my mom worked, so I'm used to taking care of family. And I suppose my friends here are kind of like a family."

Emma was sincerely happy to hear Mary Margaret's perspective on life. Emma had longed for genuine friendship in life. Most people Emma met befriended her because of her wealth and status. She'd never been sure if some of her so-called "friends" even liked her. She'd only ever found a few authentic friendships in her 21 years on this planet, but it seemed that Mary Margaret - who was relatively close in age to Emma - was rich in real friends.

Mary Margaret picked up the classified ads and the society gossip page Emma had given her earlier along with a pencil.

"Well, I better organize a game plan to re-start my job search tomorrow. O'Grady won't float me on credit forever. I'll look through these and then call to set up interviews."

Emma's ears perked up. "Speaking of calls, where is the closest telephone?"

"In the lobby at the concierge desk."

"Great. I'll head down there now." Emma went to her room to grab her purse that had her contact booklet in it and headed toward the elevator.

During the entire ride up in the elevator Killian stood stone-faced. He couldn't believe what Liam said to O'Grady. When the elevator doors opened on the 12th floor they were all surprised to see Emma standing there. O'Grady dropped the chloroform and handkerchief in the laundry cart out of Emma's sight.

"Mrs. O'Grady! I was just about to go downstairs to use the telephone."

"Well I'll be glad to keep you company, my dear," Mrs. O'Grady said in her sweet as cream Irish voice and then, gesturing to Liam and Killian she ordered, "You lads replace the linens in Miss Swan's room, we want her to have a nice fresh place to sleep tonight and I'll escort her to the lobby."

Emma grinned shyly at Killian and he nodded as he passed her, pushing the cart into the hallway. Once the elevator doors closed he pounced on Liam. "What the bloody hell was that?!" he hissed, "Why would you tell me to trust you but then ...

"You can trust me, brother! It was a ruse! I didn't mean the things I said about Emma. But if I hadn't persuaded O'Grady to swindle Emma then the lass would be inside of this bin right now."

Killian's eyes narrowed, "A ruse? To what end Liam?"

Liam sighed and scrubbed his face with his hand. "Not sure at the moment. I haven't thought that far ahead. I just said whatever popped in my head to stop O'Grady from kidnapping Emma."

Killian's expression relaxed and he clapped his older brother on the back. "And that you did, at least for the time being. I thank you for that."

Liam began pushing the laundry cart down to room 1208.

"Don't thank me yet. Not until we're all of O'Grady's reach, for good!"

As Emma and Mrs. O'Grady rode the elevator down to the lobby Emma fabricated a story about how she broke the cup of hot cocoa and promised to compensate Mrs. O'Grady for it. Mrs. O'Grady told Emma that she would just add the cost to the rent, due at the end of the week. The greedy landlady grinned as she began mentally tabulating all the things she would add to Emma's rent.

After scouring the society gossip pages and making her decisions about where she would inquire for an available boss - er available employment opportunity, Mary Margaret walked down the hallway and opened the door to room 1212 to check on Elsa. As she approached the cot the sleeping woman stirred and called out in a sleepy voice, "Anna?"

"No, it's me. Just coming to check. Didn't mean to wake you."

Elsa suddenly sat straight up in bed. "Oh no!"

Mary Margaret grabbed the trash can and ran to Elsa's side. "Another wave of nausea?"

Elsa shook her head, messy white-blonde locks waving over her shoulders. "No. I almost forgot that tomorrow is Anna's birthday and I didn't get her a present!" Elsa threw the covers off of her, got up off the bed, and ran to her closet. She wobbled on her feet and Mary Margaret grabbed Elsa to keep her upright.

"Whoa. Slow down. You were sick all morning. Give yourself a moment."

Once she was steadier Elsa took her time changing and fixing her hair. "Will you come with me to get Anna a gift?"

"Of course I will."

"Great! I know just what to get for her!"

Anna was practically dancing down the sidewalk back to the hotel, she was so happy. She just gave one of best performances of her life and tomorrow she would celebrate her 21st birthday. As she came around the corner she saw a familiar face and when she got closer she was sure she recognized the man leaning up against the old edifice.

"Well hello again David Nolan!"

David looked at the young redhead as she approached him. "Oh Hi! You're the..."

"The girl who nearly ran you over on the way to her callback audition? Yeah, that's me, the one and only Anna Arendelle. I'm surprised to see you still here. You must be waiting for someone."

"Yes, as a matter of fact I am. Someone I'm hoping is inside."

"Well why don't you come inside with me and find out?"

David looked down at his feet and shifted his weight. "Uh, I don't think that's a good idea. The hotel owner, Mrs. O'Grady, doesn't much care for me."

"Oh, I'm sure that can't be true! You seem perfectly nice to me, handsome, nicely dressed and you smell like cinnamon! That's like a bonus!"

David chuckled.

"Still, I don't don't think it's good idea. I'll just stay here and wait."

Anna pondered David for a moment. "The someone you're waiting for must be pretty special for you hang around here for so long."

A rosy hue colored David's cheeks. "She is. Very special."

When Elsa and Mary Margaret exited the elevator into the lobby she spotted Emma at the concierge desk hanging up the telephone. "Hey Emma! Elsa and I are going to a little shop around the corner then we'll grab some lunch at a greasy spoon. Want to come?"

"I don't know what a greasy spoon is, but sure."

Elsa held out her hand to Emma, and the two shook hands as Mary Margaret did the introductions before the three of them exited the hotel. Immediately they were greeted by a boisterous Anna, but Mary Margaret's sole focus was on the sandy-blonde haired man to the right of her auburn-haired friend.

"Charming?"

"Snow!"


	6. Chapter 6

Thoroughly Modern Mary Margaret

This story is my take on the "Thoroughly Modern Millie" story with OUAT characters and ships with some alterations of my own along the way. All of the speaking characters in this story are part of the OUAT universe. It's important to remember that this story takes place in New York City in 1922, during the prohibition of alcoholic consumption. PLEASE BE AWARE THAT THE SNOWING SHIP WILL TAKE A LOT OF TIME TO DEVELOP! I'm writing David's and Margaret's characters more like the characters of Jimmy and Millie from the musical "Thoroughly Modern Millie" who are both flawed characters who are afraid of romantic love. They have some issues to overcome and they will, just hang on! And Graham Humbert is going talk a lot more like Trevor Graydon III, a genuinely kind and highly efficient American businessman – so if you were hoping for the brooding huntsman (or for Jamie Dornan's Christian Grey), I'm sorry (not sorry). This chapter includes some of the dialogue from the Broadway musical "Thoroughly Modern Millie."

WARNINGS:: This story is rated T. This chapter includes consumption of alcohol at an illegal speakeasy during the Prohibition Period in the U.S.

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot or the characters.

Chapter 6

Mary Margaret's bright smile made David's pulse race. She approached him there on the sidewalk in front on the hotel. His mind started reeling with all the things he wanted to say, but couldn't quite articulate. She was just as beautiful as the first time they met, that David was sure of. The only thing he wasn't sure of was if she felt the same for him as he felt for her.

As he stood there in the midst of 4 lovely women, his focus was solely on the petite brunette.

"It's great to see you again, Snow."

"You too! What brings you to this neck of the woods?"

"He's waiting for someone very special!" Anna chirped.

Mary Margaret's smile dropped a fraction. He's probably waiting for a lunch date with an actress staying at this hotel, she reasoned. The surprised and embarrassed look on his face at Anna's comment confirmed that idea in Mary Margaret's mind. It was difficult for her to hide her unexpected

disappointment. Luckily Emma seemed to sense the tension and changed the subject.

"Mary Margaret, won't you introduce us to your friend?"

"Uh, yes. David Nolan, these are my friends Emma Swan and Elsa Arendelle. I take it you've already met Elsa's younger sister, Anna?"

Anna grinned sheepishly.

"Yeah, I practically ran him over in my rush this morning. Sorry, again, by the way."

David shrugged.

"No harm done."

Elsa gently shook her head and sighed.

"That's my little sister."

"Hey, I'm not so little anymore. I'm turning 21 tomorrow," Anna stated triumphantly, "And what I want for my birthday, more than anything else is to go out and paint the town red. Oooo! Maybe we can find one of those gin joints all the 'Moderns' go to, eh Mary Margaret?"

Mary Margaret laughed. "Sounds fantastic Anna. But in order to get in I think you have to have a friend at one of those clubs or have a ton of cash. And I unfortunately have neither."

"I do," offered David. All 4 women turned to look at him with curiosity. David stammered. "Uh, not the ton of cash, but I have a friend at a club. I'd gladly take you Snow ... Mary Margaret... and uh, all your friends tomorrow night. If...if you'd like."

Mary Margaret's smile nearly melted him. "You really are Charming, aren't you, David?"

He grinned slightly bashfully.

"Is that a yes?"

"Definitely yes."

David didn't hear any of the other ladies' reply because he was lost in the loveliness that was Mary Margaret, he took out his trusty pen and took her hand again - he knew he really ought to use paper to write things down but couldn't resist the opportunity to hold her hand. He scribbled an address on the back of her hand.

"Meet me there at 8 tomorrow night."

"Ok," Mary Margaret replied softly. Their eyes met for a moment and Mary Margaret prayed he couldn't hear her heart beating through her chest. They were drawn out of their reverie by Anna's exclamation that she was hungry for some lunch and Emma voiced her curiosity about Mary Margaret's previous mention of a greasy spoon. Soon the 4 women were expressing their gratefulness and goodbyes to David, and then they went down the street chatting about their plans for Tuesday night. David, dumbfounded in his fortuitous luck in securing a not-quite-a-date with the lovely Snow, er Mary Margaret, that he remained glued to the spot in front of the hotel as if his feet were buried in concrete. Once she was out of sight he had the presence of mind to write on his hand "Mary Margaret/Snow" He'd never forget her name now that it was etched on his hand just as surely as her name was written on his heart.

At lunch Mary Margaret chatted with her friends. She told them about how she met Charming, er David, 2 weeks ago and answered all their questions about what she knew of him - well all the questions came from the Arendelle sisters. Mostly Emma Swan just nodded and smiled while Mary Margaret spoke of David. Mary Margaret tried to enjoy her lunch - Emma's excited reactions to inexpensive food was amusing - but her mind kept going back to picture David standing in front of the Misthaven, waiting for "someone very special," as Anna previously said and David had not contradicted. She was not happy with the envy she felt in herself as she wondered who David's special someone could be. Obviously he felt the person was worth waiting for because he apparently had stood there for the better part of the morning and he probably continued to stand there after she and her friends left. Mary Margaret shook her head, trying to clear her mind of sandy-blonde hair, sky-blue eyes, and a handsome face.

Then the image of her withered and broken mother, Ava, came to the forefront of her mind. That woman once knew True Love, but that didn't help when the bills were sky high and her father Leo was no where to be found. Mary Margaret couldn't trust True Love and couldn't risk falling for a man like David who wasn't part of her "Modern" plan. She couldn't risk her heart and her future happiness. It was better, she reasoned, that David was waiting for someone special back at the hotel and that he wasn't there to see her. He's just a nice friend, she thought. Once that was settled in her mind and lunch was over she re-committed herself to her plan of finding a suitable boss.

The next day Mary Margaret was finally certain that she'd be able to find right job that would lead to her future "Mr. Right." First she would interview her new friend Emma's recommendation - Sincere Trust Insurance Company. When she called the Personnel Office they strangely didn't set up an appointment, they just told her that when she came in to the 12th floor to ask for Ms. Lucas - the head of the secretarial pool.

Mary Margaret was hopeful after the call to Sincere Trust, but she wasn't going to leave anything to chance, as her granny always said "Luck favors the prepared." She lined up a several other interviews if Sincere Trust turned out to be a bust. With her mounting debt to her odd-ball landlady Mrs. O'Grady in her 3rd week of staying at the boardinghouse on credit, Mary Margaret was going to land a job as a stenographer or die trying.

Full of determination and hope, she made her way to the 12th floor and at the front desk she encountered a formidable looking older woman with grey hair and glasses. "Good Morning. I'm looking for a Ms. Lucas."

The older woman cast a disparaging glance at the petite brunette.

"You're look at a Ms. Lucas. Who are you?"

"Mary Margaret Blanchard. I'm applying for a position with your employer," she looked at the society news page in her hand reading aloud, "Mr. Graham Humbert."

Ms. Lucas scribbled on a notepad, barely looking at Mary Margaret. "Uh-huh. Graham Humbert Senior, Junior, or the Third?"

"Whichever one is single," she blurted out.

Ms. Lucas's thin eyebrows shot up. "Single?!"

"Single-Handed!" Mary Margaret recovered quickly. "In need of a typist. Short-hand too."

"The third."

"Is he hiring?"

Ms. Lucas narrowed her gaze at Mary Margaret. "Possibly. He may have given up by now. He's interviewed dozens of stenographers, not one of them fast enough."

"I'm fast."

"So I gathered," the older woman said with a sarcastic tone rising from behind the desk. She approached Mary Margaret whose eyes widened at what Ms. Lucas implied. "I meant on my typewriter."

Ms. Lucas's mouth formed a thin line. "I didn't. Are you wearing rouge?" The older woman peered through her glasses and her steely gaze hit Mary Margaret with an unfortunate realization. "You don't like me, do you?"

"I don't like 'Moderns' missy, and you're as up-to-date as they come."

Mary Margaret actually took that as a compliment, even though she knew by Ms. Lucas's tone she meant it as a dig.

"If you'd only show him my resumé." She passed the document to Ms. Lucas who scanned the resumé.

"Hmmmm. Follow me."

Mary Margaret nearly clicked her heels together as she followed Ms. Lucas down the hall. Outside of a large pair of mahogany doors there was a tiny woman with bags under her eyes slouched over a desk sorting through a large pile of mail. The girl looked surprised when she spotted Ms. Lucas and suddenly sat straight up.

"Aurora, tell Mr. Humbert that a new applicant is here for the secretarial position."

"Yes Ms. Lucas." She took the resumé from the older woman who leaned into her personal space. "And don't let me catch you slouching again. Remember you are representing Sincere Trust!"

The tired girl did her best to straighten her back.

"Yes Ms. Lucas!"

The older woman turned sharply to Mary Margaret. "Good day Miss Blanchard."

Mary Margaret stood like there was a plank down in the back of her dress. "Good day Ms. Lucas." The old woman left.

Aurora pressed a button on the intercom. "Mr. Humbert?"

A staticky noise came through the speaker that sounded like a man's voice saying "Yes?"

Aurora pressed the button. "A Miss Blanchard is here to apply for the secretary position."

The voice on intercom came through more clearly this time. "Please send her in."

"Yes sir." Aurora handed the resumé to Mary Margaret and whispered, "Good Luck."

"Thanks," she replied.

Mary Margaret opened one of the large mahogany doors into the massive well-appointed office of the executive vice-president of Sincere Trust Insurance Company. But it wasn't just the impressively expensive furnishings that Mary Margaret found attractive, it was also the well-dressed man behind the executive desk. He had slick-styled light brown hair, was clean-shaven, and had warm brown eyes. She quickly glanced at the few framed pictures around the desk but didn't see any children or a young woman. He met her with an easy smile that was equal parts professional and beautiful. When he greeted her and shook her hand she saw no ring on his left hand and thought to herself, "Perfect!"

Mr. Humbert's brow raised slightly.

"Excuse me?"

Mary Margaret realized with a small degree of panic that she had just said her thought out loud.

"Uh, I mean this office is perfect - perfectly clean! Why I bet you could eat your lunch right there on the floor," she finished with an awkward smile which elicited a little chuckle from Mr. Humbert as he casually leaned back against the front of his desk in an exquisitely tailored suit maximizing his best assets. "Well, I'm not one for indoor picnics, but I suppose one could have one in here if they were so inclined. Please take a seat. So, you're the secretarial applicant Mary Margaret Blanchard?"

"Yes sir, and here are my qualifications," she said as she handed him her resumé and then sat down. As Mr. Humbert read over the document Mary Margaret couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to have a picnic with Mr. Humbert on a beautiful warm sunny summer day and when she opened the picnic basket there wouldn't be food, but a big beautiful engagement ring!

"References?"

Mr. Humbert's question broke Mary Margaret out of her reverie.

"What?"

"Do you have any references, Miss Blanchard?"

Mary Margaret begrudgingly shook her head.

"How about previous employers?"

"I don't have any of those either."

Mr. Humbert's brows furrowed and he crossed his arms. "You don't?"

Margaret Margaret stood up. "No, but I'm a fast learner and a diligent worker. I type 75 words per minute and I was top in my class in dictation accuracy. I know I'm the right stenographer for you, Mr. Humbert!"

He chuckled softly. "I like that confidence Miss Blanchard. Let's put it to the test, shall we?"

Mary Margaret nodded.

Mr Humbert contacted Aurora on the intercom and requested that one of the mobile typing stations be brought into his office and he handed a pencil and pad of paper to Mary Margaret. He went over the instructions for her clerical test and emphasized that speed and accuracy were of the utmost importance.

"Efficiency is the trademark of excellence here at Sincere Trust, Miss Blanchard." As he said this the rolling typing desk arrived in his office with several staff members, including a smiling Aurora and a frowning Ms. Lucas. Mr. Humbert simply glowed with pride at their arrival while Mary Margaret cringed inwardly with nervousness at the amassing audience.

"Are you ready Miss Blanchard?"

"Yes Mr. Humbert," she expressed with more confidence than she felt at that moment with a dozen sets of eyes upon her.

"Then let's begin!"

Mr. Humbert began dictating a letter and Mary Margaret took it all down in shorthand. Ms. Lucas stood nearby monitoring a stop watch. After completing the letter verbally Mary Margaret read her shorthand aloud.

"Excellent Miss Blanchard! Now man your machine!"

Mary Margaret's right hand was slightly trembling due to her nervousness and she was grateful that there was already paper inserted and aligned properly in the typewriter. (She suspected she had Aurora to thank for that and it was good to know that she had the support of even a virtual stranger) She took a steadying breath and then began typing away at the letter based on her shorthand. When Ms. Lucas yelled, "Time!" Mary Margaret already had the paper out of the typewriter and she placed it in Mr. Humbert's hands. He read the document out loud and then announced, "Welcome to the team Miss Blanchard!" This was followed by applause and shouts of congratulations from her new co-workers.

Mr. Humbert instructed Aurora to show Mary Margret to her new workstation and to fill her in on her job duties. As it turned out Aurora would be working side-by-side with her at the desk outside of Mr. Humbert's Office. As Mary Margaret's training began, the tired wavy-haired brunette gave a kind smile, and relief was evident in her expression. Aurora revealed that she'd been doing the job of 2 employees for more than a month and working extra hours trying to keep up with the workload that she rarely had time to see her fiancé, Phillip who worked in accounting.

"We either have to meet for incredibly late dinners or very early breakfasts!" Aurora explained. That accounted for the circles under the poor girl's eyes. Mary Margaret was relieved to hear that Aurora had a fiancé whom she loved dearly, meaning the girl didn't have any designs on a certain Executive VP!

When the workday drew to a close Mary Margaret hurried back to the hotel to change and freshen up before going out to celebrate Anna's birthday. She knew it would take them all awhile to figure out what they would wear, especially when they often traded clothes and accessories with each other. She was delighted to find out Anna had convinced Ruby to join them at the club where David had invited them. Mary Margaret still hadn't figured out what had been bothering Ruby, and she hoped to talk with her in the course of the evening. She didn't think David would mind if they added a sixth to their group.

Little did Margaret Margaret know that it would actually be a party of 7, including the friend of David's who was getting them into the club - a suave, sophisticated confirmed bachelor with a flair for the dramatic named August Booth. He was a real-estate mogul for Marco and Son who's real talent was knowing who's who in Metropolitan nightlife, especially when it came to booze and dancing. And with August the more liquor there was to imbibe the more he danced.

David knew the knock on his apartment door at quarter after 7 had to be his friend. He called out, "Just a minute August!" David stood facing a cracked mirror tying his tie for the third frustrated time.

He was surprised when an image of slick black hair and sparkling blue eyes joined his reflection the mirror. David flinched but quickly recovered when he recognized the reflection but that didn't keep him from admonishing August. "Just because you're technically my landlord and my friend, doesn't mean you should use your keys to enter my apartment without even asking me first!"

"Calm down. I don't even have the keys for this crappy little apartment; they're kept at my father's office. Your door was unlocked."

"Oh. I guess I forgot to lock it."

August spotted his old friend in a losing battle with a tie and made tsk sound while shaking his head and quipped, "You're getting senile in your old age, Dave. Leaving doors unlocked, and unable to complete simple self-dressing tasks. Here, let me help you before you choke yourself."

August took the tie from David and turned his friend to face him, and lifted up the collar of his shirt.

David allowed the help but his expression remained anxiously sour.

"I'm not senile. And you're 6 years older than me!"

"Age is a state of mind, and my mind is in a perpetual state of youth."

David rolled his eyes and retorted, "Funny, I thought your mind was in a perpetual state of inebriation."

August paused for a moment, looked at his friend, then chuckled.

"What's funny is how nervous about tonight you are because under normal circumstances you would not be biting my head off. I can't wait to meet this Mary Margaret. She must be quite a firecracker if she's got the Long Island Ladies man twisted into knots! Speaking of knots, this tie's done."

David checked his reflection in the mirror while August fixed himself a scotch.

David sighed heavily. "I'm sorry August for snapping at you; you didn't deserve it."

August calmly sipped his scotch. "Apology accepted."

David looked back at his reflection and then hung his head. "I'm really screwing this up, aren't I?"

August walked over to his friend and clapped him on the back.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Dave. She agreed to meet with you tonight so all you can do now is be yourself and hope for the best."

David ran his hand through his sandy-blonde hair. "You make it sound so simple. I don't think I have ever been more nervous in my life. I really care for Mary Margaret. What if this all blows up in my face?"

August looked at his friend sympathetically.. "Then at least you'll know that you gave it your best shot. And look on the bright side, at least you know who you want. Not everyone can say that. Present company included." August downed the rest of his drink and then grabbed a second tumbler, pouring for both of them. August handed David the glass.

"Some liquid courage before we head into battle, My liege."

"Battle?"

"Yes David. Love is a battlefield. Cheers."

"Cheers." Both men drank.

"Here it is; 86 Bedford," announced Mary Margaret to her 4 female friends.

Ruby glanced around and then popped a hand on her hip.

"So, where's this 'prince' of yours MM?"

"There he is!" Anna shouted, pointing into the alleyway.

Elsa shushed her sister and then in a lower tone admonished her, "Be careful Anna. We don't want to draw a lot of attention to ourselves."

David and an unknown man approached them.

"Hi David," Anna hissed in a strange stage-whisper voice that made the other ladies giggle. "Who's your friend?"

The dark-haired stranger stepped forward with a dramatic little bow. "August Booth, ladies, at your service."

After the introductions, August directed all of them to a side door where he gave the password and all of them entered the speakeasy club.

Inside the aroma of bodies and gin permeated the dark smoky warm air and the oil lamps burning low added a layer of mystery to the atmosphere. A lively piano completed a 4-piece band full of sweet melodies.

Although the room was full of beautiful women, none of them held a candle to his Snow, thought David. In the crowded club Mary Margaret felt David's breath on the shell of her ear and his firm hand on the small of her back when he asked her to dance and she shivered with a thrill she couldn't suppress. He smiled broadly as she put her hand in his, and he guided her out on the dance floor. August invited the birthday girl for a dance, which Anna readily accepted. Elsa was able to keep an eye on her sister from the table she and Emma somehow found for their group. Ruby made her way to the bar and began ordering rounds for her friends. During the following song August escorted Emma to the dance floor while Elsa made Anna take her time with her first drink ever. Elsa herself declined spirits, and only agreed to dance with August at Anna's insistence. David and Mary Margaret came to the table after their third dance. He promised to return with drinks for both of them. August and Ruby took a turn on the floor, putting on quite a show of both of their dancing prowess meanwhile Anna, Elsa, and Emma all stared straight at Mary Margaret who was obliviously fanning herself with a handbag.

"Wow! It is hot out on that dance floor, huh?"

Emma smiled knowingly. "Uh, yeah I'd say so."

"Definitely," added Elsa.

Anna couldn't hold back her curiosity.

"Are you and David in love?"

Mary Margaret's eyes widened and she stammered,

"What?! Me? In love with? I - I... what do you mean, Anna? I danced with him and you think? That's...nonsense!"

"SERIOUSLY?" All the other women at the table replied in unison.

Mary Margaret was totally flabbergasted. "David is my boy friend. I mean he's my friend who's a boy, er friend male...person. He is my...my."

Just then David approached the table and Mary Margaret stopped talking flat out. She stood up, grabbed and downed the drink he gave her. He set his own drink down. He gestured to the dance floor. "Ready to get back out there, Snow?"

"Definitely yes!" She took his hand and lead him quickly out to the dance floor. She had to get away from her friends' accusatory stares because they all seemed to believe she and David were in love?! In love! How ridiculous that she'd fall in love with a wonderful, fun, kind, handsome man like David Nolan! The best way to prove that she obviously didn't love him was to dance with him, right? That made sense somehow in her mind.

Suddenly the music slowed into a ballad and the couples moved closer together. Ruby headed back to the bar and chatted with a waitress. August took a breather at the table with the other 3 ladies. Mary Margaret found that she had wrapped an arm around David's shoulder and she was pulling him closer to her. He chuckled gently and moved them so that they were close enough but their arms were in a more relaxed position for dancing. She lost herself in his blue eyes and felt as if they were the only 2 people in the room. His face was expression of wonder and she felt herself leaning closer into his embrace.

A sudden loud booming noise broke the spell that surrounded them. People scurried this way and that. Women screaming. Glass breaking. A man's voice shouting, "STOP WHERE YOU ARE! THIS IS A RAID!"


	7. Chapter 7

Thoroughly Modern Mary Margaret

This story is my take on the storyline from the Broadway Musical,"Thoroughly Modern Millie" with OUAT characters and ships with some alterations of my own along the way. All of the speaking characters in this story are part of the OUAT universe.. PLEASE BE AWARE THAT THE SNOWING SHIP WILL TAKE A LOT OF TIME TO DEVELOP! I'm writing David's and Mary Margaret's characters more like the characters of Jimmy and Millie from the musical "Thoroughly Modern Millie" who are both flawed characters who are afraid of romantic love. They have some issues to overcome and they will, just hang on! This chapter refers to some historical things in New York, 1922. I did some research online, but I apologize if there are any inaccuracies. This chapter includes some of the dialogue similar to a scene from OUAT Season 5, Episode 9 and some of the dialogue similar to a scene from the musical "Thoroughly Modern Millie."

WARNINGS:: This story is rated T. This chapter includes profanity and heavy consumption of alcohol.

Disclaimer: I don't own the plot or the characters.

Chapter 7

David never let go of Mary Margaret's hand as he and August led the women out a back door of the speakeasy into Pamela Court, which led right to Barrow Street.

"Split up!" August shouted

Elsa, Anna, Emma and August went right while David, Mary Margaret, Ruby and the waitress she'd been talking to earlier went straight across the street into new alleyway and hid in the courtyard at the end of it, up against a house there. They crouched down and kept their voices low.

"I'm sorry Snow," David whispered, "I guess this isn't the night-on-the-town you were probably expecting."

He frowned and shifted his weight. Mary Margaret smiled sympathetically, patted his hand and whispered, "Maybe not, but it certainly is exciting!"

A small grin crept into the corner of David's mouth and he shifted closer to Mary Margaret, taking her hand in his. His expression grew serious. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you."

The waitress from the speakeasy shushed David. He mouthed the word "Later," to Mary Margaret, who nodded.

A man's voice called out, "All of you, stand up, and keep your hands up!"

The 4 of them stood up in the barely lit courtyard with their hands in the air to see a man in a dark blue police uniform. He ordered them to turn around and they did. Then the tall man reached for the waitress who stomped on his foot and elbowed him hard in the gut. He doubled over in pain, bringing his face down to the petite woman's eye level. She then spun around and clocked him, knocking him out like a prizefighter's winning blow.

The other 3 turned around to see the waitress standing over their would-be captor.

Mary Margaret's eyes were as big as saucers. "Are you crazy? You just knocked out a cop?!"

"He's not a cop," the waitress calmly replied, "And the club wasn't raided by police, but by a gang of thugs dressed as police." The woman took off the apron around her waist and used it to restrain the hands of the unconscious man lying in a heap on the cobblestone.

David knelt down to help her. "Who are you?"

Ruby piped up. "This is Mulan. She and I were housemates at the Hudson."

Mary Margaret looked quixotically at Ruby who shrugged, "Or as it's more commonly known; The New York Training School for Girls."

David's eyebrow rose. "What did they train you for? Combat?"

Mulan grinned as she stood up. "It was a reform school. I guess I wasn't fully reformed."

Ruby scoffed. "That makes two of us."

Mary Margaret shook her head still confused, pointing at the man on the ground. "But, how did you know he's not a cop?"

Mulan kept an eye on the man while she responded. "First of all the cops only ever raid us through the Pamela Court entrance but this idiot and his gang came through the main entrance. Secondly I recognized him from when he came to the club a month ago. His name is Keith and he's a hired thug for the Nottingham gang sent to steal our liquor and rob our customers. And finally, the tag sticking out of his collar says 'Lyceum Theater.' Can you three please watch him? I have to go get my boss, Locksley, who's going to want to 'talk' to him."

Ruby nodded. "No problem, Mulan."

They watched her run out of the courtyard and back through the alley, then they turned their attention to the man on the cobblestone.

Mary Margaret looked at David and Ruby, and realized she had unfinished business with both of them. She hadn't yet discussed with Ruby why she was so distraught yesterday in the hallway back at the hotel. And David said he had something he really wanted to tell her. Something in his eyes made it seem really important and emotionally heavy. She wasn't sure if she was ready to hear it in a dark alley next to a gangster on the ground so she opted to chat with her fellow Misthaven resident.

"Ruby, are you ok?"

"Never better, Captain Blanchard," the leggy brunette quipped, but then she could see the concerned expression on her friend's face and understood her serious tone.

"Yesterday you were making jokes and telling stories in Elsa's room and then in the hallway I told you about Dorothy leaving and suddenly you were...different...so what's going on, what's wrong?"

"I'm fine."

Mary Margaret crossed her arms in front of herself and gave Ruby a pointed look.

Ruby rolled her shoulders forward and sighed. "Ok. Look, you know I love you and Elsa and Anna but sometimes I feel like I don't...fit in. At first I thought it was because I'm a former juvenile delinquent from the lower east side, but lately, I don't know...I wondered if it might be something else but then..."

"Then you met Dorothy and she's from Chicago; another big city..." Mary Margaret continued.

"And she'd spent time in a reform school for running away from home, just like me," Ruby finished.

"Ah! And when Dorothy left it was like you lost a... kindred spirit?"

Ruby nodded.

Mary Margaret hugged her friend. "Well, if it's any consolation, I'm always here for you."

Ruby smiled and hugged her back. "I know you are MM. And I appreciate it."

After they broke the hug Ruby left the courtyard to find Mulan.

David smiled at Mary Margaret and she couldn't help but return his smile. She accepted his offered hand. He took her in his arms and began slowly dancing as they had been inside the speakeasy only 30-some minutes before.

"So here we are. In a dimly lit courtyard, alone...with a mobster mercenary wearing what's probably a stolen costume."

She laughed. "Yeah, probably."

"All things considered, a pretty romantic turn of events," he said as her turned them around and around until his back was to the alley.

She suddenly gasped. "Charming! Behind you!" David's spun around, fist raised, and he made solid contact with the jaw of the man approaching them. Unfortunately that man just happened to be his friend, August who shouted in pain and shock. "Dammit Nolan, it's me!"

David winced at the pain in his hand. "Sorry August."

Mary Margaret also apologized, it was too dark in the courtyard to recognize him.

Once the pain in his face began to subside, August explained how he had sent Emma, Elsa, and Anna home in a cab he hailed for the ladies on Hudson Street before making his way on foot back to them. He said he'd encountered Ruby who told him about the fake raid and pointed him in the direction of David and Mary Margaret. He took his leave of them, to home and a bottle of bourbon, when Ruby and Mulan returned with Mulan's employer, Locksley and his men. The tavern owner was grateful that Mary Margaret and David aided in making sure Keith didn't escape but they explained that it was Mulan's quick thinking and even quicker fighting skills that stopped the imposter officer. Locksley promised Mulan a raise, got David ice for his sore hand, and even paid for the cab that would take Mary Margaret and Ruby back to the Misthaven.

Before she climbed in the cab David offered to take her on a safer venture on Friday evening, this time to a baseball game. Mary Margaret thought that was a great idea for two friends to get to do, so she accepted.

The rest of the week was great for Mary Margaret at work because she excelled at her tasks, earning her praise from her new boss (and potential future fiancé) Graham Humbert III. He told her how he highly esteemed her how quickly she responded to his calls for assistance that he gave her darling little nickname - "John" - because whenever he summoned her, she was "Johnny-on-the-spot," he said. While it was true that the nickname of "John" didn't give her the same feeling of butterflies in her stomach as the nickname of "Snow," that Charming (David) had given her, she still believed the very fact that Mr. Humbert had given her a nickname meant that he was certainly falling in love with her. She fully believed all was going according to her brilliant plan.

The only moment that made her question her plan to marry her boss was on Wednesday when she arrived home from work at almost half past 5 pm and spotted her friend Anna kissing her boyfriend Kristoff goodbye after their "gentleman caller" visit in the dining room of the hotel. They were lingering over their farewells - he had to get back to work making ice deliveries in Harlem. Mary Margaret couldn't help but see how in-love they were, even though they were both as poor as church mice. They hung onto each other and when they finally had to separate they seemed so happy. As she rode the elevator up to the 12th floor, Mary Margaret took a deep breath and swallowed down something that felt a little bitter. She tried not to dwell on it too much, because admitting that she was envious of her friend's happiness was definitely not going to assure her that her plan to marry for wealth instead of for love was the best choice.

On Friday evening in room 1208 Emma slowly expelled a breath. "End scene. All right ladies I need your honest opinions. What did you think of my monologue?"

Elsa was the first of the 3 to speak. "I thought you were fantastic , Emma, just brilliant."

Ruby nodded. "You are going to nail that audition tomorrow morning."

"It was so amazing Emma," Anna added, "You were so in-the-moment, for a second there I forgot it was you! I was thinking 'Where did Emma go?' which is ridiculous, because 'Hello?' you're standing right in front of me!"

Emma breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you I hope I can impress the casting director as much as that. There's going to be so much competition tomorrow. Do you have any advice for me?"

Ruby piped up. "It's all about the office boy. Read him right and you'll read for the role. Who's the casting director?"

Emma brow furrowed "Um, I think it's Mr. Weasel-town?"

"Weselton!" The other 3 women said simultaneously, and then groaned dramatically.

Emma's eyes widened. "Wow! What's the problem with him?"

"Nothing," Ruby said sarcastically, "As long as you like short, pompous, balding snobs. But, the good news is that you'll do fine with him because he loves the bourgeoisie and you're tall, blonde, and you dress like an heiress."

Anna hissed in her strange stage-whisper, "That's because she is an heiress!"

Ruby looked at Emma quixotically. "Really?"

Emma gave a small nod.

Ruby looked moderately impressed. "Mazel Tov. Well then as long as you can get in to see Weselton, you're all set. Now Weselton has 2 office boys, Olaf and Hans. They work alternating days. Olaf is a sweetheart but Hans..."

Anna chimed in. "Hans is weird!"

Ruby shot a look at her ginger friend. "Creepy. Anna, the word your looking for is 'creepy.'"

Anna nodded. "Creepy and clingy. I ate lunch with him at a deli after my first audition and I mentioned I loved sandwiches. The next thing I know he's down on one knee, proposing to me!"

Emma shook her head in disbelief. "What? That's crazy!"

Elsa stepped towards Emma and gave her an encouraging smile. "Just avoid him if you can. And don't worry about the audition itself. You're going to do great."

Anna nodded. "You're talented and determined and you have all of us rooting for you, so no matter what the result of your audition tomorrow morning, you'll be fine."

Ruby patted Emma's shoulder. "We've all been through it a hundred times; the nervousness, the excitement, the frustration. Why, if I had a dollar for every rejection letter I've received I'd have enough money to produce my own one-woman show!"

Emma's curiosity was peaked. "Have all of you received a rejection letter?"

The three women nodded sadly.

"It happens to all actresses at one time or another," Elsa stated matter-of-factly, "I don't think that in the 2, almost 3 years Anna and I have lived here that there's been a Misthaven resident who hasn't received at least one rejection letter."

"Oh? I didn't realize you had been here that long," said Emma, "Then you must have known Zelena."

"Who?" asked Elsa.

Emma walked over to the vanity and retrieved the letter from inside her stationary box. "Zelena Mills. I found this letter from a producer to Zelena Mills under my bed the day I moved in."

Elsa's brow furrowed. "May I see that letter, Emma?"

She handed the letter to Elsa. "Sure."

"Hmmm. Well that's odd, it's addressed to Zelena Mills at the Misthaven Hotel, but no room number. It's dated a little less than a year ago; July 7th 1921. And the letterhead says 'The People's Theater 199 Bowery Street, Manhattan. Ruby isn't that..."

"Where my Bubbe took me to see my very first play? Yeah." Ruby crossed the room to look at the letter with Elsa.

Anna looked confused. "What's a 'bubbe?'"

"Her grandmother," replied Elsa.

Ruby leaned in over Elsa's shoulder and read aloud. "'Dear Miss Zelena Mills thank you for your interest in the production 'As Ye Mould: a play in three acts.' We regret to inform you that have not been cast. Regards, Geoffrey Stein; producer.'"

Anna crossed her arms in front of herself. "Well that was brutal but brief. Poor Zelena. Wait. Who's Zelena?"

Ruby shrugged. "Beats me. Whoever she is she wasn't staying in this room in July last year. That was Belle French, remember Elsa?"

"Yes. Ruby's right Emma."

Emma didn't know why she found this all so intriguing, maybe it was just part of her curious nature. She plopped down on her squeaky bed. "I find it strange that no one seems to remember this Zelena woman, not even Killian."

Elsa quirked her head quizzically. "Liam's younger brother Killian?"

"Yes."

"Oh. I didn't realize you two were, uh, acquainted."

Emma's cheeks colored slightly as she smiled.

"Well, we just met on Monday. Killian and I. We've been...getting to know each other."

Just then Mary Margaret appeared in Emma's doorway. "Knock, knock." She was met with greetings from her four friends.

"Hi! Oh good you're all here, that'll make it easier to return what I borrowed and thank all of you. Emma, for the purse. Elsa, for the shoes. Ruby, for the hat." As she had spoke she handed the items to the rightful owner.

"You're welcome MM. How was the ball game?"

Mary Margaret sat down on Emma's bed. "Great! Great snacks, great seats, everything was great...Well, at least the first 15 minutes or so. Funnily enough as it turns out the owners of the Polo Grounds where the Yankees play won't let you sit in seats you didn't pay for."

That statement rendered a cacophony of sounds of shock and surprise from the other 4 women in the room. They finally settled down when Mary Margaret raised her hands and they let her continue.

"I know, I know I was just as surprised as all of you when David and I were escorted by security staff out of the park."

Anna was appalled. "I can't believe David didn't have tickets."

"Oh, he had tickets. He's so broke that he bought them cheaply from a friend of a friend. But when some other people arrived, claiming we stole their seats, David was quick to point this out to the attendance usher who determined that the tickets David bought were forgeries."

Emma groaned. "Oh, no that's terrible. What did you do."

Mary Margaret shrugged. "There wasn't much we could do. We walked around the city for a couple of hours, chatting about nothing in particular watching the gas lights flicker on."

Elsa smiled. "Well that's nice that you were able to salvage the date and have a romantic, quiet evening."

Mary Margaret shook her head. "It wasn't a date. We're just friends."

The amount of rolling of eyes in the room was nearly audible.

Emma stared at Mary Margaret in disbelief. "Seriously? You're just friends?"

Mary Margaret nodded. "Yes, he said it himself tonight."

Her friends stared at her in disbelief.

Almost at that same moment over at David's apartment he was telling August about the evening's events with Mary Margaret while downing another shot of scotch. August's eyes went wide in disbelief. "You told her that you're 'just friends?'"

David sighed sadly. "What was I supposed to do?"

August leaned back in his chair and huffed. "Well I don't know. Maybe that you love her. That you can't stop thinking of her. That she's the first woman in the longest time that made you believe that True Love was possible... or any number of the other romantic things you've been been babbling about to me about her this entire week!"

"I couldn't August. Not after she told me she's engaged!"

"Engaged?"

"Yeah, as in she's going to get married."

August pinched his brow as David went to fix himself another drink. "I know what 'engaged' means David. She told you she's engaged while you're on a date with her?"

"Apparently she was under the impression that we weren't on a date. "

David handed August a glass of scotch and started drinking straight from the bottle as he flopped down on his back on a ratty old sofa.

August shook his head in confusion. "That doesn't make any sense."

"Not much does. And I feel like a total fool. There we were talking and laughing while walking around the city. And we both said how, despite being kicked out of the ballgame we were both having a great time. So I asked her to a picnic in the park on Sunday. Then she tells me some anecdote about a picnic in her fiancé's office."

 **David pictures the moment perfectly in his mind.**

" _Fiancé?" He asked. His heart feeling a sudden pain._

 _"Yes," Mary Margaret replied, "Well boss, and fiancé. I'm going to marry him."_

 _David was knocked back by this revelation. "W_ _ow! Love at first sight?"_

 _"Not for the 'Modern'. She takes charge of her destiny. No waiting for my ship to come in. I went out and found him."_

 _David looked down and shuffled his feet. "So I guess this means no picnic then."_

 _She quirked her head and looked at him. "Why not? We're friends aren't we? Friends have picnics."_

 _David's head popped up and his blue eyes stared into her light emerald ones. "Of course they do!_ _And that's why you should invite your friends who came to the club Tuesday night to the picnic in Central Park on Sunday afternoon."_

 _"Oh Charming! That's a fantastic idea. But I don't know if Anna can come. She usually visits with her beau on Sundays."_

 _David smiled. "Well he's welcome too. The more the merrier."_

August listened to David recount his conversation with Mary Margaret and sadly shook his head. "So you're going to go through with this...picnic?"

David winced as the dark liquor stung his throat. "Yes."

"And then you're going to do the thing where you're so in love with someone who is otherwise attached you befriend them and hope they eventually see that they should be with you instead."

David groaned and stared at the ceiling. "I don't know. I guess I am."

"Like father, like son," August mumble into his glass.

"Hey," said David rolling on his side and pointing at his not-so-sober friend. "Let's not bring fathers into this. Besides you're guilty of the befriending someone you love...thing, too."

"Touché. But you're forgetting that mine was different. My someone didn't have a fiancé."

David swallowed another swig from the scotch bottle in his hand. "Touché. I'm still trying to figure out about what to do about that."

August cocked his head at his inebriated friend. "I've got news for you, friend. You're not going to find the solution at the bottom of that bottle."

Back at the Misthaven in Emma's room. Mary Margaret said, "Oh! I almost forgot. David's invited all of us on a picnic on Sunday afternoon in Central Park! Doesn't that sound terrific? And Anna he said you can bring Kristoff!"

After an awkward pause the four women gave enthusiastic responses to the picnic plans.

Mary Margaret rose from Emma's bed and headed to the door. "Well, if you'll excuse me it's been a long day and I need to change so I can give you back this dress I borrowed, Anna. Thank you by the way."

"You're welcome," Anna replied. And with that Mary Margaret returned to her room and tried not to think about why she went through the trouble of borrowing nice things to wear from her friends on her "Not-a-Date" with David and why she didn't mention her "fiancé" to her friends. No. She wouldn't dwell on what those things meant. Her heart couldn't handle it.


End file.
